Tinderbox
by Cheryl W
Summary: As the newly installed leader of Atlantis, Colonel Samantha Carter's first official advice to John is a doozy, does more damage than good to our favorite team. Set post "reunion" episode. No slash.
1. Blind Insightfulness

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

Summary: As the newly installed leader of Atlantis, Colonel Samantha Carter's first official advice to John is a doozy, does more damage than good to our favorite team. Set post "reunion" episode. No slash.

Author's Note: First off, I like Sam Carter so this isn't a character attack I just needed her to be a catalyst to get this storyline kicked off. And I did not watch any Stargate1 episodes so my portrayal of her and her experiences and opinions aren't based on any "facts" from that show, again simply me using her character because she was the one with the power to mess this badly with the team. So please, no hate mail for making her the "bad guy". Second point, I guess I like some turmoil in the team because this is like my third story dealing with that. Though it all ends well with my brand of smarm, if you like all smiles and rainbows and unicorns between the characters all the time, this might not be a story you'll enjoy. Ok, enough ramblings…as they say in show biz…on with the show.

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Chapter 1: Blind Insightfulness

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When she closed the door after he took a seat, John knew he was in for it. Made him tense. It was not like he didn't lead his team into a crap storm and had to have Colonel Carter save his butt. Didn't help that she didn't want to back the mission in the first place, thought he was doing it for personal reasons not professional. And yeah, maybe it had been. Considered it one final gesture of loyalty to Ronon before he ditched them. What? Him? Bitter? Pissed that Ronon was leaving, had picked his old mates instead of the people who had had his back the last year?!

Ok, yeah, it had rankled John more and more, especially since he didn't see what was so great about Ronon's Satedan's buddies. Bunch of selfish, savage jerks, as far as he could tell. Not like he was biased or anything. Felt his anger, sense of betrayal….hurt, nearly boil to the surface when they were in the hive ship. When Ronon was branching off with his new team, said "Good luck", it was on the tip of John's tongue to come back with a "bite me" like Ronon gave a crap if they had good luck…or even bad. He didn't care about protecting them…he had his Satedan family to protect now instead of them. But John had been more mature, let silence be his comeback as he turned and walked away from Ronon…like Ronon was doing to them. Knew that they were cutting ties, one strand at a time until the hacking started in earnest after the mission.

Crap but John knew all about not being good enough for the people in his life, how bitter the ending of a relationship could get. That's why he had done the leaving when his father couldn't stand the sight of him anymore, walked away and hadn't looked back. Had done that with Ronon when they parted ways in that Hive ship, didn't look back but, darn it, he had wanted to.

And then the mission had gone beyond fubar and Ronon's so called family had betrayed him and now what?! John was supposed to just forgive and forget Ronon had been a hair's breath away from ditching him, them. Probably hadn't even unpacked his freaking bag yet.

'_And I'm about to get my butt handed to me over this stupid mission I didn't want to go on in the first freaking place! This job is just so full of perks I can hardly even count them…on one finger_.' So he snapped his jaw closed and waited for the dressing down, the reprimand to be put in his file, for Colonel Carter to say that they were kicking him down a rank, heck, maybe back to airman, especially since his strongest supporter, Elizabeth, was gone. And that hurt too, her being …_gone._ Him not bringing her home, saving her.

Colonel Carter spoke, interrupting his wallowing in self-hatred for his failure after failure lately. "I wanted to talk to you about Ronon."

That had John snapping from his reverie, had thought this was going to be about him…not Ronon. And fear and protectiveness surged out of him. "He had absolutely no idea his friends were Wraith worshipers. I'd stake my life on that."

"You did stake your life on your trust of Ronon," Carter piercingly pointed out.

'_Oh yeah, here comes the demotion_.' "Yes, I did and he's the reason my team is still alive, him getting back to Atlantis, telling you we were in trouble. We would be dead if it hadn't been for him."

"Yes, that's true," she conceded but when she eyed her military commander silently for the next few seconds it was not a good sign. "He was going to leave Atlantis…your team. I think we need to address that."

"He was never a security risk," John heatedly retorted, wouldn't let her say anything disparaging about his friend.

"The IOA agreed and was going to let him go with our blessing. But…the point is…" she seemed to pause, chose her words carefully and John knew whatever she said next, it would hurt him, understood it in his gut. "John, he chose to leave your team and I don't think we should ignore his ….discontent."

"Discontent…" was John's stupefied rejoiner.

"Yes, he must have felt …" the Colonel Carter seemed to select her next words deliberately, "…that he wanted a change and his reunion with his fellow Satedans gave him that chance to make different choices."

John shifted in his chair like he was in the hot seat, didn't like Carter's take on Ronon's decision, not one bit. "You think he …wanted off my team…before he met up with them."

"Studies say that if someone contemplates leaving a positon, it comes from a place of dissatisfaction with their current circumstances, that they are restless and statistics say that feeling doesn't usually go away. And if he wasn't a soldier…it might not be critical if he wasn't 100% vested in his job performance but here…what we face, the dangers of your team specifically, any…half-heartedness can get someone dead, can cause untold damage to the safety of Atlantis and Earth. Ours is not a job for the adequate job performance."

"I'd stack Ronon's "job performance" against any other soldier who ever put on a uniform, Colonel," John railed back, back stiffening, ready to go twenty rounds on this one if he had to.

Carter's features softened and so did her voice. "John, I'm not….this isn't about any mistakes he's made, it's about….the future. What he might want..or need."

John felt his stomach tighten as he got to the conclusion Carter was leading him to. "And you think that's being off my team."

"He chose to leave. He already showed us he's not happy."

'_Not happy_.' Crap, this was like the ending of his marriage all over again. '_You're never here, you never talk about anything important, you never tell me what you're thinking, we're not happy…well, not the time we're together anyway.'_ His voice was a bit strangled as he forced his next words out. "So what do you suggest, _Colonel_?" Too pissed and hurt to keep up the first-name, we're-friends façade.

Picking up on Sheppard's snippiness, Carter straightened, gave off her full Colonel take-no- crap vibe. "I'm not _suggesting_ anything, Lt. Colonel Sheppard. I'm pulling Ronon from your team."

And there it was. John thought he had dodged a bullet, got to keep Ronon, that things could go back the way they were but that would be an emphatic: '_no dumb behind, you dodged the right swing and got decked by a hard sucker punch from the left'_. He could see the uselessness in arguing against this…heck, maybe it was the right thing to happen. Ronon had been pretty freaking quick to pack his crap and head for the door. And hanging on to people that didn't want him …that wasn't John's style.

"He should get his own team," he countered, saw Carter's surprise, not at his suggestion but his lack of protest. "He was a squad leader in Satedan, has deserved his own team here I just…" silently confessed, if only to himself, '_didn't want to let him go, didn't want to let him off my team, wanted him to be there when I needed him._' All selfish crap, he could see that now. "There isn't an off world team that wouldn't follow him into hell."

"Thought that's what they say about every Marine here, their loyalty to you?" she half teased but John's expression was bitter.

"That was before they realized how few make the round trip back from the hell I've ordered them into," he caustically said, hadn't really meant to say it aloud though. Clearing his throat, he continued his praise of Ronon. "Ronon protects people, that's why he wanted to go with his friends, to protect them…to lead them. He needs someone to stand guard over. He'll make a strong leader and we need that, need more teams capable of taking on contingents of Wraith."

"Ok, I will consider your recommendation. And with Ronon's departure, you'll need to consider who to replace him with for your team."

"Actually, if my team's going to be…." He broke of, didn't think Carter would put up with his description of 'fragged", he amended with care, "reconfigured, I think I want other changes."

Now Carter looked like he had sucker punched her, in no way saw things going this way. "You want more changes? To your off world team staff?" Wasn't sure how this could be, this team was famous…almost as famous as her own for doing the miraculous and now Sheppard wanted to….break it all apart. Granted she was removing Dex but that was just common sense, what John seemed to be suggesting was dismantling it all.

"Teyla can lead another team and McKay can get back to just lab duties. That's where their individual skills are needed most. I mean, when we were cut off from earth it was an all hands on deck thing for the off world teams and we had, like, five teams max. Things have changed in Atlantis and I should have made these adjustments a year ago."

It was all very logical, even seemed best for Atlantis. .And though Sam had had only a little personal interaction with Sheppard when he had been back at Stargate Command, she had thought he was….aloof. Until she saw him interacting with Dr. Beckett at Command and had looked as close to happy as she'd seen him. And once, she'd walked into Sheppard's office and recognized the voice coming through Sheppard's phone's speaker as Rodney McKay's, had seen John smiling at whatever McKay said?! And if that wasn't unexpected…McKay saying something to make anyone smile? So she didn't have a handle on John Sheppard, not by a long shot but this, giving up his teammates, people who had made the hell round trip with him on more than one occasion, it wasn't what she'd predicted. "Just because Ronon is being transferred, it doesn't mean your other teammates aren't satisfied to remain on your team."

'_Satisfied_,' that word left a sour taste in John's mouth, like a meh, satisfactory grade. Wasn't a fail and wasn't an eager pass either. "We haven't been….connecting lately." Remembered Rodney out right disobeying his order to not give Elizabeth the nanites and he had seen the mistrust in Teyla's eyes ever since Michael popped up again, didn't help her forget the fubur the retrovirus project had turned out to be. "I think reassigning everyone would be in Atlantis' best interest."

"You're forgetting yourself Colonel. You'll need to reassign three new personal to your off world team."

"I have some candidates in mind," he out right lied. What did you do after you'd had the very best team in two galaxies to watch your back, implement his crazy plans, save him when he couldn't be bothered to save himself?!

Carter seemed to be contemplating it but then she nodded her head. "Ok, Colonel. Should I tell your team or would you like to."

"I'll do it." Because he was no coward…wanted to be but…if he was going to the bastard this time who ruined everything that he loved, he'd have to be man enough to face up to it.

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He called them into the conference room, could see their surprise when Colonel Carter didn't join them, each recognizing that this little team meeting seemed awfully official. Knowing that procrastination and pussy footing around the issue wouldn't do a thing to change any of it, John got right to the point. After the doors closed, he didn't even take a seat, bluntly announced, "I'm making some changes to the off world teams." Didn't wuss out and put the blame on Carter, owned the idea as his own.

Rodney stiffened. "Changes?! What changes? I never like changes, not even as a kid, hated when the lunch ladies switched up green beans for peas on the weekly lunch schedules. Not like I liked eating any vegetables back then…or now. Still not…

"What changes?" Ronon bluntly asked, eyes boring into John, praying it wasn't going to go the way he dreaded it would. That he had screwed things up and all wasn't forgiven.

"You're all getting reassigned." And there, he had said it, but John knew the worst of it wasn't over.

"What?! You know I can't stand any of the other leaders! Lorne's the only one who's kinda ok," Rodney's whined protested hedged out Teyla's objection by a half second.

"John, I do not wish to be reassigned."

John shouted over their protests, all but Ronon, who hadn't said a word, "This isn't up for debate!" his growl drowning the room in unhappy silence. "Ronon and Teyla, you'll lead your own teams now. And Rodney, you get your wish and won't be on an off world team anymore."

Ronon, instead of seemingly being pleased about getting what he had sought with his Satedan buddies, surged to his feet in anger, sending his chair toppling over and began pacing the room. John chose to ignore him. "Teyla, Ronon, I'll let you have some input on the personnel for your teams but that might get shifted once we get more staff from the Daedalus next month."

"You're breaking us up," Rodney hollowly stated in stunned realization.

"You've been whining about having to put your lab work on hold to go off world. Now you won't have to anymore. You should be happy," John bit out, as if he was angry with Rodney when it was just himself he was angry at…for this hurting so badly, for letting these people matter to him, for letting them get so close to him until they were a part of his soul. Life had surely taught him that him getting attached was a sure fire way to get someone killed (just look what happened to Elizabeth and Holland) …or have them end up hating his presence in their lives.

"This is my fault, isn't it?" Ronon finally spoke from his tense stance at the other end of the table.

And there was no use in denying the obvious. "Not your fault but…clearly you weren't…" hated he was going to say 'happy, satisfied', chose another word, "…content staying on the team, missed being a leader. And I …I get that. You were a leader on Satedan and you ...and Teyla deserved to be respected enough by me to retain your leadership status here on Atlantis. With this new arrangement, I'll have two more teams I can have full confidence in." And it wasn't right to be going all rainbows for them and not McKay, "And Rodney…I know I strong armed you into joining my team and it was…a different situation back then. Now we have more personnel, more soldiers to be out in the field. And Atlantis could use your expertise full time, I've known that for a long time."

His pep talk was returned with dead silence.

"What about you? If we're not on your team, who are you replacing us with?" Ronon demanded, as if he already objected to John's choices.

"I'm considering a few candidates, haven't made any final decisions yet," he hedged with the same old line he had given Carter.

"This is crazy! And it's stupid!" Rodney irately snapped coming out of his own chair to face off with John. "No one's survived the stuff we have as a team, pulled miracles out of orifices when no one else could like we have! You don't fix what's not broken."

John quietly countered, "Who says it's not broken." And there were flinches all around at his painful objection. His look encompassing Teyla and Ronon, he stiffly said, "I'll circle back with you two on your team choices later in the week." To Rodney, he said nothing, there weren't words of parting he wanted to say.

Then Sheppard walked out of the conference room, left three lives crumbling in his wake. And his team didn't even know what all this was costing him, that breaking them up, it wasn't his idea…he just figured if they were going to be maimed anyway, they might as well go for all out decapitation. Leave nothing standing. Knew from too much personal experience that, the easiest way to move on, was when there was nothing to go back to.

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TBC

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So anyone up for more? Hope so! Thanks for reading!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	2. Fractured

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

Author's Note: I know this story is set in third season but I'm going to do a character change up and have Carson Beckett still the doctor for Atlantis. I love the kind heart and loyalty of that man!

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Chapter 2: Fractured

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John Sheppard became a ghost after that, his former teammates had rumored sights of the man but hadn't laid eyes on him for the past week. It was Major Lorne who conferred with Teyla and Ronon about their team choices, not Sheppard, and it felt…insulting that John didn't keep his promise, that both of them had hoped to talk to John then, get him to change his mind, not rip their team… their family apart. But John pulled a fast one on them, sent in a replacement, avoided them, on purpose. It felt like another wound inflicted to Ronon and Teyla's mortal injuries.

Surprisingly, it wasn't Teyla but Ronon who asked the question Evan Lorne feared to have to answer. Before Evan could walk away from their meeting, Ronon grabbed his arm, halted the Major's departure. "Sheppard…is he…is he ok?" earnest need and concern there, neither emotion the Major ever thought he'd witness in the big, fierce Satedan. It just made it all the harder to find the right words to give in reply.

As if sensing Evan was going to moderate his response, Ronon commanded, "Don't lie. I want to know the truth."

Evan sighed, ran a hand down his face. Was Sheppard ok? That was the freaking debate of the year. Would be easier to answer if the man said more than five darn words in his presence and they weren't all orders. If he didn't avoid interaction with everyone, wasn't so busy skipping off on off world mission after off world mission like it was a marathon, no, more like a Chinese fire drill because he kept switching up his teammates, picking poorer and poorer choices as he went along.

But it wasn't his place to question his commanding officer's decisions…except….Sheppard was seriously scaring him. So his answer came from a place of that concern. "OK? No I don't think I'd label him ok." Feeling it was his opening to rant at the man who had kick started all this off in the first place, he took it. "But what do you care? It was so easy for you to turn your back on him, go play commando with your old buddies."

Ronon slammed the Major against the wall, snarled, "It wasn't _**easy**_!"

"Wasn't it?!" Evan challenged heatedly, refusing to be intimated. "Sure seemed that way to me…._and to Sheppard_," the last said emphatically, its accusation unmistaken that Ronon had _hurt_ John, no light offense in Evan's book.

That statement seemed to deflate Ronon, had the Satedan releasing Evan and stepping back from him. "I thought…I thought I was doing the right thing," true heartbreak in the soldier's tone, regret for his actions which inflicted pain on a man he considered his brother.

Evan found he couldn't hold onto his anger, not in the face of Ronon's profound remorse. "Yeah, I've been there too, when the right thing …just turns out wrong."

"But I'm here, I stayed!" Ronon adamantly pointed out the obvious, thought that would fix what he had broken, wanted it to anyways.

"Only because your buddies failed you. If they hadn't…" Evan quietly refuted, left the answer to that other outcome hanging unsaid.

"So what? Should I leave?!" Ronon growled, though he didn't want to do that. Had never really wanted to go but had gotten all tangled up in loyalties and memories and clinging to the past, in the joy of finding familiar survivors of Satedan, being reunited with his old team who he thought he'd die for.

"No, you moron! Sheppard doesn't want you gone, never did," Evan irritably shot back before he shook his head, knew he wasn't helping the situation.

"Then what _**should**_ I do?!" Ronon shouted, menacingly approaching Evan. "I know this is all my fault but I don't know how to fix it! You tell me how and I'll do it!"

"You think I'm holding out on you?! Know the right thing to do and what, think it's fun watching Sheppard isolate himself from everyone?!" Evan shouted right back, his own helplessness blazing through.

Ronon spun away from Lorne, paced the room, wanted someone to tell him what to do…usually relied on John to do that, give him advice, keep him in check, help him right his wrongs.

Evan wished he had the right words, knew how to mend the gaping holes in Sheppard's team, but he didn't. He only wanted to. "I've got to go, have an off world mission."

His back to Lorne, Ronon nodded in acknowledgement that the Major was leaving. No one could help him undo the damage he had done. But as he heard the Major's footfalls heading for the door, he swung around, called out to Lorne, "Take care of him…." Wanted to say '_don't let him get hurt'_ but then again, Sheppard was already hurt, by him, was starting off wounded.

Evan wanted to exclaim '_HOW? How am I supposed to take care of him when he doesn't let me get close to him, let anyone get close to him?'_ But what he said aloud was "I'll do my best," almost expected Ronon to scoff that that wasn't good enough but the tall man simply gave another resigned nod of his head and Evan took his exit. He heard a thud coming from the room and expected a Ronon fist sized hole would be in the room's wall the next time he entered it. Maybe more than one.

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For his part, Rodney was in such bad sorts that his entire staff had fallen into complete silence around him if at all possible because nothing they said, nothing they did could please the man. Which, ok, that wasn't so different than before but now there was a savagery to the Doctor's cutting criticisms, like he wanted to inflict pain to mirror the pain he was in.

And speaking of pain, "You're bleeding," Radek pointed out as he bravely joined Rodney at his lab station.

"What?!" Rodney snapped, not looking up from the metal Ancient device he was trying to put back together again because some genius took a blow torch to it when they were entering a water logged section of Atlantis' west wing.

"Your hand, it's bleeding," Radek stated, pointing to Rodney's left hand that had blood running down his fingers, getting smeared on the Ancient device, dripping onto the lab's countertop.

"It's fine!" Rodney shot back, trying to put the pieces together with force, ending up further slicing his palm with the metal's severed edges. But he didn't react at all to the new injury.

"Rodney, stop! You're hurting yourself!" Reaching out, Radek grabbed Rodney's left wrist and pulled it away from the device, was grabbing a rag to stop the bleeding but Rodney ripped his hand out of Radek's grip before he could wrap it.

"I said it was fine!" Rodney growled, stepping back as Radek took a step toward him with the rag. "Why are you here?! Don't you have enough screw ups of your own to fix, have to see what my team's destroyed by their incompetence?!"

Radek held back a sigh. Rodney was always prickly to deal with but with the dissolving of Sheppard's gate team, the other scientist was downright hostile to everyone. And the fact that McKay wasn't running frantically to medical because he was bleeding…it was a side of Rodney McKay he didn't know. The word 'broken' came to mind and it gave him the fortitude to do what he came there to do. "I'm here to see if you're ok," he replied, his voice kind like it rarely managed to be around Rodney's irritable personality.

"OK?! What, now you're questioning my abilities?!" Rodney snapped. "I'm more than ok, I'm exceptional, well, more than that because I'm off the Richter scale of genius and the descriptions are limited at that level, I think out of jealousy."

"You're hurting," Radek cut across Rodney's monologue.

"What? This?! I've been hurt worse on nearly 80% maybe 90% of our off world missions and I…" Rodney's comeback petered out. He didn't like mentioning or thinking about those missions, those memories. He had discovered quite some time ago that they were good memories, even when he _did _get hurt but now…they were too painful to dwell on.

"I wasn't talking about your hand I was talking about…here," and Radek patted his own chest, knew he was being vulnerable by opening himself, knew any minute he might be shredded apart by Rodney for trying to be sympathetic to him.

For a moment, Rodney wanted to pretend he didn't get Radek's meaning, claim Radek was referring to a physical pain in the heart not …you know, the type of pain in his heart that was tearing him apart. Instead of saying anything, he grabbed the rag from Radek's hand and swiped at the wounds on his hand like it was grease he was trying to scrub off his skin instead of welling blood.

"Here, let me," Radek said, stepping into Rodney's personal space and claiming the rag. He wrapped it around Rodney's hand and tied it before he slid a hand around Rodney's elbow and began herding him for the door.

"Where we going? I'm in the middle of getting that fixed," Rodney protested but didn't wiggle out of Radek's hold, the gentle but insistence grip reminded him too much of the times John had manhandled him to safety, away from harm.

"It'll be here when you get back, Rodney. We need to get Carson to look at your hand."

"My hand?" Rodney repeated, like it didn't register with him, the injury, the blood, the pain he must be feeling.

"Rodney, how much sleep did you get lately?" Because McKay's subordinates ranted that, no matter when they went to the lab, hoping McKay wasn't there, McKay was there like he never left.

"Sleep, I've gotten some but my projects were sadly lacking. I was always…you know…busy …going…there were missions….crisis after crisis…." Rodney deflected feebly, truth was, he didn't like the dreams he had, like all the fears that had been tramped down by constant danger were now given free reign. All the bad things that had happened, all the near misses, all the horrible could have beens, they all came to him when he closed his eyes.

Radek told himself to get Carson to have the conversation with Rodney that sleep was good, needed, required. There was only so much true concern he was willing to show to McKay in one day. And if things didn't right themselves between Sheppard and McKay, he feared that there would be an unlimited supply of days he'd be concerned about McKay in the future. Logically, he knew he needed to pace himself.

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Teyla usually had willing sparing partners lined around the block, ok, hallway, but lately, those usual partners were shunning her. '_Like John is,'_ she morosely compared, going through the motions of her sparing ritual but it was giving her no peace. And that had nothing to do with a lack of partners, well, maybe the _right _partner. There had been others in the days before, none with a smirk for when she got a hit in, none that surprised her with a new move or took their defeat with a cocky attitude of 'I could have won if I wanted to'. None were John.

Maybe that was why she had been so….harsh with those who had spared with her, because they failed to be him. Were so easily defeated, cried out instead of smirked when she scored a blow, quit their session before it was done. And had not come back. No matter how many times she beat John in their sessions, he always came back. '_Until now_.'

She smacked the banto rod against the mat with enough force that the wood suffered a hair line crack. Instead of giving into rage, she sank down onto the mat, ran her fingers over the weakened wood. John was not dead, though she chided herself she was acting as if he was. He was alive, well…just not with her, with Rodney or Ronon.

She remembered a movie John had showed her about a family whose business was crime, that the father had once said of his son who had severely disappointed him, "You're dead to me." Sorrowfully wondered if that was how John thought of her, dead to him, like she felt he was as inexplicable gone from her own life.

She had tried to see him, had gone to his office, his room, even his favorite balcony, but he was never there, any of those places, no matter the time. She had come into the gateroom once and seen him on the platform with his new "team", their eyes met and there was nothing in his expression, only an unemotional stare, one usually reserved for those he did not trust. Then he stepped into the gate and she couldn't hold back her gasp of inhaled air, almost like a sob when he was gone.

She had not sought him out after that, couldn't, didn't want to break under that stare, of knowing all they had once meant to one another, their team, their family, it was no more. Nor did she wish to admit that she didn't have faith that she could fix it, not with words, or actions, that there would be no respite from the ache in her heart from the loss of not only John, but Rodney and Ronon too. Because they had tried to remain the same, ate lunch together in the mess hall when they could manage it but it was a somber thing, like three strangers thrust together. Worse, three orphans who were choking on memories of the past, a past that was truly out of their reach and looking into a future…none of them wanted.

Though she contemplated going back to her people, she realized the Athosians had stopping being that: her people. She had told Ronon it had been hard, like a betrayal to leave them, to stay on Atlantis but it had been for the greater good that she could do. Now that seemed so prideful_. Good __she__ could do_?! No, it had been good **they **could do, her with John, with McKay, back then it was also with Ford and now it was with Ronon. She alone…it felt like nothing she did now would do any good.

If only she could tell John that, get him to believe that, to make him see that Ronon had not meant to hurt him, any of them, when he decided to go with his Satedan friends. She understood that he only had wanted what she had once. To step back into the past and undo her mistakes, to change the outcome, to erase some of her hurt, to right some of her wrongs. But there was something deeper, more wounding Ronon had wanted that she knew nothing of: Ronon had wanted to ease the unbearable guilt he still bore of not being on Satedan when his world needed him most.

But all her wishes, what Ronon had wanted to gain by his reunion with his friends, they were desires that were never to be realized. As John and Rodney would taunt each other when one of their games did not go their way, there were no 'do overs'. The past was beyond their correction, they had only the present. Sure, Teyla knew she should be grateful, that she was among friends, that she had the protection and alliance of Atlantis, that she had purpose, had ways of fighting the wraith and protecting others. And she _was _grateful but… gratitude was a poor substitute for happiness. And she was certainly not happy.

She did not fight back the silent tears that streaked down her face, dripped onto the mat and the broken banto stick. It was not helping, stifling her pain, pretending she could endure it inwardly, silently. She did not know how to get past this, to be….satisfied with a life with so few moments that made her want to smile. Instead of teammates she could gently chide to heed her advice, now she simply had to command her new teammates to follow her orders. Strangely that somehow felt…lacking in trust, faith. They listened only because her rank demanded it, not because they truly believed in her wisdom, in the goodness of her heart like her former team had. Then there was the bereavement she felt at not protecting the lives of John, Ronon and Rodney, lives so very more precious to her than her own. It was peculiar to feel utterly alone while accompanied by her new team, to have that same feeling haunt her even on Atlantis with hundreds of people around her.

Unintentionally her fingers caressed her necklace, the one her father had given her long ago and John had unearthed in the cave at their first meeting. It had unknowingly been the catalyst to bring the Wraith to John's people and created Atlantis's distrust in her and her people. But it had done good too. Had shown her that John was willing to defend her to the last, trusted her even when that trust had put him in contention with Elizabeth Weir. He had loyally and fervently stood by her when they had only known each other scant weeks.

Her hand coiled around the necklace desperately. Where had that trust gone, how had she destroyed it, how could John think she would rather lead than follow him into death itself?! How had they come to this place?! What had she done wrong?! Though she did not place blame, she knew Ronon's decision to leave Atlantis had hurt John. She had arrogantly thought the two men would have to patch up the cracks in _their _relationship, never imagining John would force her to do that same. No, worse, not give her a chance to mend whatever he perceived was broken, would cut himself off from her. Would forget what they meant to one another, were to one another. John was her brother, closer than any of her tribe had been since the taking of her father and mother. And she wanted him back. Like she wanted her other two brothers back, for what were Rodney and Ronon but that?! But they were not that without John. Somehow he made them that, made them family, without him…they were all excruciatingly alone.

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John would give his father's fortune away to be alone, to step through the gate to whatever an off world mission could dish out, _alone_. _'I couldn't do worse alone_!' he railed, hefting the wounded Lt. Sebastian Tudor's weight as the blond lanky twenty something Marine limped through the wormhole. Felt chagrined he hadn't paid more attention to Major Lorne's personnel reports. In the past two weeks, he had tramped through the gate with the Marines Lorne had flagged as possible problem children. And every time he returned to Atlantis with said Marines in tow after a harrowing off world mission, the word "Possible" was mentally scratched off his commentary of at least one of the Marines.

Some weren't "works in progress" they were "time bombs ready to go off". How the heck they had been greenlighted to Stargate Command he'd never know. Wait, he did know. And that was the problem. Nepotism was alive and well in the military. Legacy mattered…as did money and political power. But he shut those last two categories down, didn't want to remember how they had been employed, against his wishes, to get him out of a court-martial. Damn his father and his refusal to have his good name and reputation sullied by a son who got court-martialed.

John gritted his teeth at the memory and reminded himself that they weren't talking about his screw ups right now, they were talking about the Marine he was helping to the infirmary. He remembered doing this too often back at Stargate Command when they were all ousted from Atlantis by the Ancients. Missions gone wrong because of incompetency…or clumsiness. Like that kid back in Command, Wallus, breaking his ankle trying to help an even clumsier science officer out of the brook he had fallen into, today _could_ have been written off as clumsiness..if arrogant aggression hadn't played a part in it.

They were in the middle of a negotiation, ok, maybe it was more of a showdown, the natives pointing spears while John's team were pointing P90s but John was handling it. Was calming everyone down…until Lt. Sebastian Tudor took a nervous step backwards, tripped over a root and fell, inadvertently pulling the trigger and putting ten rounds into the trees overhead. Which startled the natives into using their pointy weapons. Luckily John had restrained his Marines to not shoot and after only a few spears had been hefted peace or the facsimile of it had been restored or maintained. Whatever. But not without bloodshed. Lt. Pine hadn't dodged a spear fully and had been nicked on his torso and Lt. Tudor had earned a sprained ankle for his clumsiness.

So yeah, bad luck, clumsiness…except…for how they got into that stupid showdown. At their chance encounter with the natives as they each crested the same hill from different sides, John had raised his hands in the universal sign of 'we mean you no harm' but Lt. Tudor thought it wise to charge the foursome, tackle the tallest one and strike him with his rifle butt while the guy was pinned on the ground. John had surged forward, yanked Tudor off the natives and practically thrown the Marine backwards away from the natives. That had kick started another wonderful version of 'get to know your neighbors' gone fubar.

Sure, Tudor had claimed on their way back to the gate that the tribesmen were touching their spears threateningly, especially the tall guy he had tackled. That he had reacted to save the gateteam but it was an insight John didn't share. Still, it could have gone down as a simple verbal reprimand…if Lorne's personnel file of Tudor wasn't choked full of similar violate reactions and yes, bouts of clumsiness. John was already wording his reassignment orders as he helped Tudor into the infirmary with the other Marine helped Lt. Pine to the same destination.

Busy manhandling Tudor onto the nearest medical bed, John didn't notice the other occupant of the infirmary until Rodney pushed his way between him and the seated Lt. and clutched onto his arm with his surprisingly strong grip. He easily read Rodney's expression and wanted to run from it, didn't want to be the recipient of Rodney's concern, of anyone's.

"Sheppard?! How badly are you hurt?!" Rodney anxiously demanded before paling at the blood on his friend's hands and shirt. "I _knew_ you shouldn't be out going off world without us. You're a bad luck magnet on the good days with Ronon, Telya _and_ me playing interference. Carson!" he bellowed, wanted the best help for John, _immediately._

"McKay I'm not hurt," John insisted but Rodney nearly spoke over him, "Yeah, of course, that's what you always say! Carson! Help over here!"

Arriving on the scene, Carson bit back a sigh as he saw his frequent flyer customer, the Air Force Colonel, not the Astrophysics. "I was hoping to not see you for a good month at least, Colonel. So what's the crisis today? Another boxing bout? More strange rashes? Or maybe it's more prickers in awkward places."

"What?! He's been injured before this and you didn't tell me?!" Rodney chided Carson, didn't give the doctor time to defend himself before he began interrogating Sheppard. "What is he talking about boxing? Rashes? And no, I do not want to know about the prickers situation." Then Rodney's attention ping-ponged back to Carson, "And hello, he's bleeding?! Shouldn't you be doing something?!"

"Blood's not mine, Rodney!" John growled out in a louder decibel then necessary, earning him everyone's attention in the infirmary. Dropping his volume, he explained to the wide eyed McKay. "It's Lt. Pine's," and he jerked his head to where Pine was being tended to by another of Carson's medical staff.

"Oh," Rodney awkwardly answered but there was visible relief in the set of his shoulders that John wasn't the one bleeding.

Not having to be on the defensive any longer, John noticed Rodney's hand wrapped in a rag with suspicions red blotches soaking through. "McKay, what did you do to your hand?" a hint of angry reprimand there.

It was then Rodney remembered his own injury, dropped the hand to his side like he wanted John to forget about it. "It's nothing." But Carson was there lifting up his hand, apparently finally remembered he was a doctor and he was supposed to care if people came into his torture chamber bleeding.

"It's definitely something!" Carson contradicted began unwinding the rag but Rodney suddenly felt self-conscious with John there, yanked his hand from Carson's grip. "It's just a scratch."

"And since when do you not treat a scratch like a mortal injury, let alone downplay an honest to goodness serious injury?!" Carson retorted, hands on his hips, glaring at his friend.

"I don't need to be here…Radek made me come," and he looked over his shoulder to pin his fellow scientist with a glare but Zalenka had already made his escape the second McKay headed for Sheppard. Rodney turned his attention forward again to find Sheppard and Carson were both flanking him with determined expressions.

"Rodney, let Dr. Beckett fix up your hand," John commanded but that tone just pissed Rodney off.

"Is that an order?! Because you're not my commanding officer anymore, remember?! You ditched that job." '_Ditched me_,' his internal voice corrected.

John stepped closer to Rodney, got into his personal space, lowly growled, "I'm the military commander of _Atlantis_ and I say get your hand seen to and that's an order, Doctor!" Then John shot Carson a look, got a nod in reply and then he stormed out of the infirmary. He was having another crappy day tacked onto a crappy month so far and his encounter with McKay had taken things down even further.

'_Since when is Rodney Mr. Tough guy when it comes to injuries and pain?! Did he do it just to contradict me?! Put on that stubborn stoic show because I was there?! And how the heck did he get hurt?! He should be __safe__ here on Atlantis! Should be safe in general with not having to go on high risk off world missions every day_!' And that pissed John off too…that the one member of his former team he thought he didn't have to worry about getting hurt while he wasn't there to protect them…just got hurt. So yeah, he needed something to hit, preferably something that didn't bleed because if another person pissed him off on his way to the gym…he wasn't sure he could be accountable for his actions.

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TBC

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Thanks for all the support shown to this story in chapter 1! Your kind encouragements keep me writing up new ways to torment the team…I mean..write nice fics about friendship and comradery.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	3. Walking Wounded

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

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Chapter 3: Walking Wounded

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"Rodney, how the bloody heck did you do this to your hand?!" Carson demanded as he applied pressure to the wound with a sterile bandage to slow the bleeding.

But Rodney didn't answer, sat there numbly looking at the door Sheppard had stormed out of, stunned that John hadn't stayed to make sure he was ok, even to see how badly he was hurt. Hadn't seemed to care at all that he was bleeding, hurt. And that …it wasn't like John…but then again, none of them were like they had been before…he didn't want to call it a break up because that sounded lame maybe dissolution. No, disbanding. That sounded more like Robin Hood's merry men going their separate ways: tragic, unexpected, so unlike the bromantic happy ending he thought the story would have.

"Rodney, are you listening to me!" Carson demanded, giving Rodney's cheek a light tap, earning McKay's eye contact at last. However, the look in McKay's eyes, it was almost akin to shock, but not from blood loss…something more damaging: emotional wounds that tore into his soul.

"He left. Didn't even wait to see if I was going to bleed out, lose my hand, go into septic shock from an infection," Rodney hollowly said and Carson's heart ached, not only at Rodney's hurt tone, but at the buried pain he always managed to diagnose in Sheppard every time his path crossed with the Colonel lately.

"He ordered me to contact him if your injury was serious," Carson revealed.

"No he didn't," Rodney snapped in denial but there was hopefulness in Rodney's tone a second later when he prodded, "Did he?"

Turning his attention back to Rodney's hand, the wound that was his _duty_ to patch up, Carson assured, "Ay, he did."

Fearing Carson was lying just to make him feel better after all, Rodney growled in suspicion, "What, you telepathic now?!" Because as much as he wanted John to care he was hurt, to believe he was worried about him, he couldn't let his need make him gullible. Had to accept that Carson was spinning a yarn, had to be because he wasn't so out of it that he missed this supposed conversation between Carson and Sheppard while he sat right there.

"No, I don't have to be telepathic, Rodney. He gave me that nod he always does when someone he cares about is injured but he has duties to perform and has to leave," Carson patiently explained the interchange between himself and the Colonel that Rodney had missed, always seemed to miss.

Unvarnished hope glistened in Rodney's eyes as he looked up to Carson. "He did? He gave you that nod?! Now?! This time?"

"Course he did, Rodney," Carson vowed, hated witnessing the fractured trust between John and his team.

That seemed to settle some of Rodney's hurt, for a few seconds anyway, before he adopted a pissed expression. "But you didn't return the favor and tell me when Sheppard got hurt! You know, from boxing or the rashes or… that other situation."

Carson held back a smirk, made sure to keep his head bowed as he cleaned out the wound before picking up a needle to suture the laceration. Only a few people would suspect Rodney McKay of being a mother hen, would peg the man as a self-centered ego manic…well, he could be that too but when it came to Sheppard and his teammates, occasionally Carson, the man wore his heart on his sleeve, of course woven into outraged indignation. "None of that resulted in John being injured. His teammates, they were the ones I treated for those things. I can assure you, Rodney, Colonel Sheppard's the picture of health."

"Oh…well….good that the others are getting hurt." At Carson's reprimanding look at his seemingly callous statement, Rodney attempted a fumbling amendment, "Right, yeah, I mean, it'd be better if no one was hurt but…" there he petered out before grumpily finishing with, "Come on, you want me to lie, say I'm not relieved Sheppard's not the one ending up hurt?!"

Carson sighed, knew he could only work with what he had, that Rodney's sphere of warm regard and protectiveness, it was limited to a very select few, so he gave Rodney a half hearted pass, "Guess not. Besides you suck at lying."

"Yeah, I do," Rodney conceded a bit chagrined like that was a character flaw. Then he began processing what he'd learned. "Wait, so his teammates, either they suck or…" Rodney paled at his own hypothesis deduced from the facts. "Oh crap. He's taken on the most dangerous off world missions, hasn't he?! And with what? Amateurs for teammates? Marines more clumsy than…"

"…You," Carson taunted, with a wicked smirk. "Yes, that's hard to imagine for me too."

"Hardy har," Rodney retorted but he was still calculating the odds of all three of those things happen to John's new teammates. "So all three of his teammates have gotten hurt going off world?! Separate missions or the same one?"

"Actually different teammates on different missions," Carson distractedly answered as he put in the last suture in the slice in Rodney's palm.

"Different teammates? So he's switched up teammates, hasn't kept the same three?" Rodney incredulously surmised.

"All I know is, I haven't had any repeat business. The only common factor has been the Colonel bringing them to me." Rodney didn't need to know Carson insisted on examining Sheppard on the first two visits, didn't distrust that Sheppard wasn't hurt, regardless of the Colonel's claim he wasn't. '_Right, and you were all smug when Rodney jumped to that the same conclusion minutes ago,' _Carson silently chided himself but didn't want to admit that to Rodney, would just make the man crow that he wasn't the only one overprotective of Colonel Sheppard.

"And what? His "teammates" getting hurt every mission?! That's not a red flag to you?! Doesn't tell you he's picked the worst of the worst to have his back?!" Then Rodney's voice rose with his blood pressure. "He's practically carrying around a neon blinking sign to the fates saying '_I'm surrounded by idiots, come get me_?!"

That conclusion hadn't gone past Carson's notice, or his worry. Giving a sigh, he broke down and confessed to his own disquiet, "I've tried to talk to him about it…but…"

"Let me guess, he pulled out his 'military commander of Atlantis' tone and you buckled under," Rodney derisively retorted, couldn't believe Carson hadn't come to him with this, that he had to find out inadvertently.

"Hey, you scampered in a corner not five minutes ago when he used the same tone on you!" Carson shot back, had witnessed Rodney crumbling under John's command tone and hadn't judged the man. Like Rodney was doing to him.

"Yeah but that wasn't about _his_ life being on the line," Rodney protested his weakness.

Giving Rodney's wounded hand a slight shake to prove his point, he said, "No, it was _your_ health in jeopardy."

Looking at his hand, Rodney demurred, "It's not serious," uncharacteristically dismissing his own hurt, like he never did, no matter how minor that perceived hurt was.

Bending his head down to get Rodney's eye contact, Carson refuted his friend's claim. "It is serious. Why didn't you come straightway, Rodney? Why did Radek have to force you to come? That's not like you."

"Doesn't matter," Rodney monotoned, eyes skittering away from Carson's.

"You being hurt does matter, matters to me…" Paused a moment before he said what he knew in his heart to be true. "And I know it matters to John."

Rodney gave an undignified snort. "He sure has a funny way of showing it."

"I know things are tense and hurtful right now but….it will get better," Carson said even as he wished he knew how this healing would happen, or when.

"That your professional opinion, doctor," Rodney snidely responded to Carson's pep talk.

"No…but it is my hope," Carson admitted, encouragingly patting Rodney on the knee.

But Rodney wasn't buying what his friend was selling, dejectedly grumbled, "Yeah, well, what's hope gotten us lately." Because he had had false hope that, if he could just _see_ John, talk to him, things could get straightened out, go back to the way they were. But that was the direct opposite of what had happened. Instead he felt like he and John were on worse terms than they were when Sheppard announced the disbanding of their team.

"Rodney…" Carson began, though, honestly, he didn't know what more he could say. Rodney cut him off before he had to formulate any more Hallmark card commiserations.

"I'm not in the mood for a pep speech, Carson. Just finish your voodoo on my hand so I can go back to my lab where I belong." But even as he said it, Rodney felt the lie that it was. The lab wasn't his go-to spot anymore. It didn't offer the sanctuary from the world like it had all his life until he stepped through the stargate into Atlantis, until a certain Air Force flyboy goaded him to join his gate team, thought there was more to him than his brain. Saw something in him no one else ever had: someone he could trust with his life, someone he could count on when the worst was happening, someone that could be his best friend.

'_Somehow I lost all of that, ruined it and the worst part is, I don't even know how. Cause if I knew what I did wrong, I could fix it, promise to never do it again._' But as much as Rodney tried, his equations, his calculations, his theories and his analyses couldn't give him the answers he needed, were grievously failing him. And yes, Earth's survival nor Atlantis's were at stake but somehow, this, not finding a way to salvage his friendship with John, it felt just as cataclysmic a disaster to Rodney.

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As it turned out, John did not make it to the gym. Like she had spidey senses, Colonel Carter called him when he wasn't more than fifteen paces out of the infirmary. "Lt. Colonel Sheppard, if you're out of the infirmary, I want to see you in my office."

"Yes, Colonel," he had dutifully replied, miraculously managed to keep the frustrated edge out of his voice but what he knew he really needed to do was keep his cool when they were face to face. Because his anger at her was steadily brewing into a maelstrom, especially now that he couldn't even reassure himself this situation was better for Rodney because McKay didn't look "satisfied" or "happy" or "content" or any of those other terms Carter liked to bandy about. What he looked was hurt…and not just physically.

Resolutely unclenching his fisted hands as he climbed the stairs heading to the Colonel's office, he rapped on her doorway, causing her head to come up and then she waved him in. Stepping inside, he deliberately shut the door behind him, wasn't keen to share whatever new hell she unleashed on him with the entire gate room staff. Then he stood at attention, not because she earned that respect from him but it remind him that he was addressing a superior officer, that he couldn't let his emotions get loose, at least not yet, had things to accomplish before he did something he couldn't come back from.

Noting Sheppard's stance, Carter's lips tightened in a thin line, somehow realizing that his actions were not about respect, felt more like mockery of her position. It made her voice clipped and cold when she spoke. "It hasn't missed my notice that most of your off world missions end in injuries lately. I thought this was an….unaccountably high percentage but then I recalled your missions back at Stargate Command in the Milky Way. Those were fraught with injured teammates too. So I have to begin to wonder….do you have little regard for the wellbeing of the soldiers under your command when they are not Dr. McKay, Ms. Emmagan, or Mr. Dex?"

John's jaw clenched. So that was how she was going to play it. Holding onto his stance and his temper by a thread he answered her accusations with a tight but controlled tone. "I value the lives of all personnel under my command, Colonel. I would think my past actions and willingness to put Atlantis' wellbeing above my own should buy me a little leniency for my current "percentage" of higher injury rates."

"Leniency shouldn't be necessary, Colonel Sheppard," she shot back her voice rising before she finished with a quiet lethalness, "if competency was present."

And that pushed John past his tolerance level. Abandoning his at attention stance, he stepped toward her desk and glowered down at Carter as she sat regally behind her desk, "If you did more than look at _my__ military records_, maybe looked at the records of the soldiers on my off world missions, you might put two and two together and conclude it isn't _my_ incompetency these missions highlighted. Each of the Marines has reprimands in their files, warning flags that I, as the military commander of Atlantis, needed to determine if they deserved "leniency" for these infractions or if these soldiers should be reassigned from the program or even removed from service. So, since I had a lot of open spots on my team suddenly, I took the _opportunity_ to see them in high risk situations for myself to make a _fair_ determination of their suitability to remain at their posts."

Samantha Carter fought back shifting in her seat, knew she couldn't do anything about her reflective actions of her face paling at Sheppard's explanation because she was caught off guard and yes, ashamed she hadn't seen through the outward statistics, had let her…her emotions make a biased opinion. Hated that Sheppard was making her look the fool and worse, that she deserved it. Crap but this wasn't how she wanted to command, had thought she would be fair, better than some she had served under, especially those who were biased because she was a woman, didn't let her prove herself before they formed their unshakeable opinion of her. '_Like I've been doing with Colonel Sheppard since he was back at Stargate Command._' Before she knew what to say, Sheppard bit out, "If there's nothing else…I have mission and personnel reports to complete, Colonel," then without waiting for her dismissal, he left.

Sam clenched her hands together on her desk and watched Sheppard go. Internally she was cursing herself. There was more to John Sheppard than she wanted to believe, should have gotten that when General Landry spoke so highly of him when she made a snide remark about how Sheppard's tame Milky Way missions seemed to have a habit of going sideways. And then there was Rodney McKay who…besides his uncomfortable infatuation with her, didn't seem to like anyone…but he liked Sheppard. And more miraculously, Sheppard genuinely appeared to _like_ Rodney McKay.

If that wasn't enough, she did have an unhealthy obsession with reading Sheppard's file and yes, he had made errors in judgment, more than his share and they had cost lives. But among those errors, if she was honest with herself, were reasonings she couldn't wholeheartedly disagree with. He had been in some horrible situations, not black and white, except in the outcomes of living or dying, Atlantis and all its personnel being killed or him finding a way to save them. And even greater stakes: Earth being discovered by the Wraith. How did you balance out saving your planet with whatever fallout known and unknown that outcome had?! Sheppard had played the 'take the win today, worry about the cost tomorrow' and as much as Sam and the brass wanted to Monday morning quarterback his decisions, they honestly didn't have a better plan than the one he had initiated. In fact, most times, the combined intellect and experience and strength of the IOA would have never come up with the solution John Sheppard and his Atlantis team had devised to save the day.

Maybe that was the problem: jealousy or professional envy or just down right malice that they did what no one else could. And it was petty and stupid and she was ashamed she had gone down that path, hadn't meant to when she accepted the position on Atlantis. Sure, ok, she had thought her name could be spotlighted along with theirs, could share their glory, have one heck of a first command post reputation.

Crap but she had turned vain since her rise to power. And worse of all, John Sheppard saw through it all, darn him.

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John tried to not tense in his chair as he saw Ronon enter the mess hall, immediately locked his eyes on his tray so their eyes wouldn't meet. Silently he cursed his bad luck of crossing paths with another of his ex-teammates for the second day in a row, last night with Rodney, and now today with Ronon. '_You're worried over nothing. Ronon isn't McKay, isn't a talker, whiner, complainer, or even someone who tries to communicate on the best of days. Which this isn't. He wants nothing to do with you, he won't get within a hundred yards of you_,' he reassured himself but a moment later, he cursed under his breath as footsteps he'd know anywhere drew closer to his position.

When the footfalls reached him and stopped, could feel Ronon towering over him, he bit the bullet and tilted his head up to look at the younger man but said nothing. If Ronon wanted to do this, he'd darn well have to use his words. Though John hoped Ronon didn't, backed off, retreated…but then again, retreating always got in Ronon's craw.

"We need to talk," Ronon announced as if he'd read Sheppard's silence as a goad to take charge. Darn him.

Fearing Ronon would try and claim a chair at his two man table, Sheppard deliberately and unhurriedly put one foot then another on the chair, made a show of crossing his legs at the ankle. "Table's full," giving Ronon his closed mouth smile that was akin to a 'eat shit' message, all the while knowing he was being a bastard. He watched as Ronon's hold on his own tray tightened into a white knuckled grip, knew Ronon wanted to use that hand to better use, like punching him.

To John's surprise, Ronon humbly conceded the next moment, "Guess I deserve that…all of this."

And John wanted to refute that belief, might have tried to at least lessen Ronon's guilt had Colonel Carter not entered the mess hall at the moment, her eyes catching his, an eyebrow raised as if asking if he needed her assistance. Like he needed her to come protect him from freaking Ronon. Fighting down a burning flare of indignation at his CO, John instead gave her a curt nod of acknowledgement before focusing again on Ronon, who had missed the importance of that exchange and John wished he hadn't. Wanted to tell him….ah, crap, maybe it wouldn't matter, make a bit of difference that this wasn't of his choosing.

But he didn't want Ronon to suffer for it. Wanted the Satedan to give his best with his new team, to prove to Colonel Carter that he was loyal to Atlantis, belonged here as much as anyone from Earth, more so. "You make it sound like you've been punished but I know you've always wanted to run your own team. Now you are. Win win."

Ronon rarely showed surprise but the expression he wore, Sheppard was putting it into that category. "That what you think? That I was leaving Atlantis over some…ego thing…wanting to lead my own team?!"

John forced himself to shrug, hated that this conversation was playing out here with an audience but, at the same time, feared that without the audience, things would really go off the rails. "You said they needed you to lead them. So yeah, seems like there was a bit of ego in that decision." Though he didn't think he believed that. Yes, he was still pissed at how things had gone, that Ronon had been leaving but…crap, he couldn't unbiasedly pinpoint what his motives were.

Ronon slammed his tray down on John's table, leaned into John's personal space so they were eye to eye and gritted out, "I said they needed me to _protect_ them…not lead them."

Part of John ached to goad back, _'Yeah and how'd that turn out?! You went off with them, to protect them and left us high and dry. Meanwhile, in your piss poor plan, that was a trap by the way, Teyla and I got captured then your good buddies turned on McKay, tossed him in a Wraith cage with us. Then you leave to get help from Atlantis __for your good buddies__, not knowing they were the spider in this freaking trap.' _But his silence was a frigid breeze, like it was in the Hive ship when Ronon had wished him, "Good Luck" and he hadn't said a single thing back, had just walked away.

Getting nothing back from Sheppard but that cold stare, Ronon growled low in his throat. "I wasn't betraying you!"

"No, your buddies did that just fine without your help," John's voice remarkably even compared to the resentment surging through his veins.

In a fit of anger, Ronon growled low in his throat and flipped his tray, sending it arching to crash against the window and rain down food on John's table top. John simply sat there, hadn't flinched at the outburst or subsequent crash, just held Ronon's gaze unblinkingly.

"Specialist Dex!" Colonel Carter barked as she stalked up to the Satedan. But Ronon didn't look her way, kept his eyes locked on John.

'_Ronon don't blow things for yourself_,' John wanted to implore, instead he continued to hold Ronon's gaze but gave a jerk of his head toward Carter, ordering the bull headed soldier to heed her position of command.

Obeying Sheppard, Ronon turned to Carter, adopted a halfhearted look of contriteness. "Colonel Carter."

"Sorry for his outburst. He's a diehard Raider's fan and you know I'm Cowboys all the way, so it can get pretty heated between us," John smirked all the way through the deception.

"Really, if it gets "heated" like this again, anywhere on Atlantis, I'll write you up," Sam steely admonished, her look encompassing both soldiers.

"Understood," John said, wanted to kick Ronon in the shins to get him to do the same and, after a beat of silence, the Satedan parroted John's words. "Understood."

"Good. Now I suggest you go your separate ways." Then she lightly chided, "Let the rest of us enjoy a more .._peaceful_ meal atmosphere," pulling on a smile for the benefit of the audience that this encounter was drawing.

And that rankled with John, her 'go your separate ways' advice, hadn't she already done that to him and his team. "Yeah, I'd hate to screw up anyone's peaceful _meal_," he snidely retorted, left unsaid '_like you screwed up me and my team'_ but his look seared into the Colonel before he got up, brushed by Ronon and without another acknowledgement to Colonel Carter, stalked out of the mess hall.

Ronon wished he had the guts to go after Sheppard, was as brave as everyone thought he was. But he wasn't. Wasn't willing to push too hard and break whatever thin thread still tied him to Sheppard. Would skulk back like a coward rather than risk losing that tenuous hold he still had to believe he had on John's friendship.

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After his exit from the mess hall and the confrontation between Ronon and Colonel Carter, John really _really _needed to punch something, badly. Vowing to not be swayed in his path, he did a quick change in his room then went to a workout room that Ronon and Teyla never trained in, wasn't leaving any chance for another teammate encounter.

Donning tape on his hands, he declined a sparring offer from a young Marine with something a little more like a growled "No," then anything human sounding. Then he was in the corner alone, just him and a punching bag and there was power behind each hit, well, that and rage and frustration and regret regret regret.

From his position at the opposite end of the room, the soldier who had wanted to spar with his commanding officer found himself relieved at having been turned down. He could see that the Colonel would have beaten him to a pulp in the mood that he was in.

John didn't know how long he lost himself to the punishment of the bag, stopped only when he was nearly gasping for breath. Leaning his head against the bag, he worked to slow down his racing heart. He wiped at the sweat on his forehead only to see blood on his fingers, looked to the punching bag and saw smears of blood there too. Looking down at his hands, he saw blood over his knuckles, that it had seeped over and through the tape on his hands.

Picking up his towel, he wiped the bag clean, ripped the tape from his hands but didn't bother trying to deal with the damage, figured he could wipe away that evidence when he was back in his room, took his shower. And he almost made it clean to his quarters, if Beckett hadn't turned the corner just at the wrong time, causing them to cross paths in a hallway only two away from his destination.

Carson thought it was kismet that he was crossing paths with Sheppard. He had heard the scuttlebutt about what had happened between Sheppard and Ronon in the mess hall and found that he was worried for the Colonel. Well, more worried than he already was. And it must have been that worry that had him putting his life on the line akin to poking a hungry bear by stepping into John's path and crossing into busy body, gossip territory, by opening with, "I heard you and Ronon had quite the blow up in the mess hall. Son, whatever anger Ronon's showing to you, it's more about him hurting, like you all are."

John opened his mouth to make a snarky comeback but Carson's attention was diverted by the sight of John's bleeding hands.

"Holy crap! They said you two fought, I thought it was all verbal!" Carson exclaimed, lifting John's bleeding hands to examine them. "But what was I thinking?! Ronon talks with his fists!"

"It was all verbal, Beckett!" John growled, yanking his hands from Carson's grip.

Carson put his hands on his hip and dodged into John's path as he made to move around him. "Ok, then who did you beat down."

"Not who…what…" At Carson's look, John qualified. "Punching bag, went a few rounds."

"Yeah, I've seen the movie Rocky but what'd you do, forget to put on the gloves?!" Again reaching for John's hands which John pulled in front of him, like he was contemplating shoving Carson back a step or two. Instead he did the retreating himself, paced back two steps.

"Bag pissed me off so the gloves came off," was John's comeback, trying to be funny when he wasn't feeling it. At all.

"Bet it's not bleeding like you are. Now let me see them," Carson insisted, making another grab for John's hands but the soldier deflected his reach with a block by his forearm like Sheppard was holding back an attack instead of good intentioned aid.

John tightly said, "They are fine."

"Right, your bloody hands are fine, just like Rodney's hand was fine," Carson ranted, couldn't believe he'd risk his life to serve on Atlantis and had to contend with the people he cared about _refusing_ his help when they were in pain.

Carson's comeback had concern flaring in John. "Rodney's hand…it was serious?! You didn't radio me…."

Carson almost shook his head. It was typical Sheppard protocol: worried about Rodney and others when he couldn't be bothered to worry about himself. "It wasn't serious but it wasn't fine. He got cut up working on a Ancient device some genius had taken a blowtorch to."

"But no nerve damage or anything?" John cross examined, felt his chest tighten waiting for Carson's reply.

"No, a few stitches was all. Too bad Rodney isn't here, can't witness that you were worried about him." Even as he sneakily wondered if he could get someone to replay the security footage for Rodney's sake, which made him wonder if it had audio. Which unless someone could read lips…

Into Carson's tangent thought, the Colonel snapped, "Course I was worried, he was bleeding."

"And he'd be worried about you right now," nodding to John's bleeding hands but Carson knew it was the reason John abused himself that was the real concern, would set off more warning bells for Rodney it he was there to see it.

"Just bloody knuckles, nothing needed but some antiseptic," John downplayed, dropping his arms to his side.

"Ah, huh. And where ever you're going, there's antiseptic there?!" Carson grilled, knowing full well John hadn't been heading to the infirmary, was aiming for his quarters.

"I'll stop by the infirmary later," John outright lied, was finding this meeting with Carson as painful as his interactions with his team. _'Crap how did you think anything would remain the same, John?! Not be wiped out. Everyone's taking sides now that you've started the war…and what? You think you'll come off as the good guy?! You let them believe you did this, on purpose?! Ronon and Rodney are pissed at you and Carson's Rodney's friend, so yeah, Carson's not gonna be all chummy with you. Is only trying to do the whole 'I need to patch you up' for Rodney's sake, because Rodney would want him to.' _And that was a revelation too, to accept Rodney was pissed at him, yes, but he'd also want Carson to fix him if he was hurt, really hurt, wouldn't want him to be in pain, demonstrated that with his panic in the infirmary when he saw him.

Reading the untruth in Colonel Sheppard's vow, Carson heatedly challenged, "What, now you're shutting me out too?" but his next words were distressed entreaties, "John, it's not healthy to…"

"You're not my shrink!" John growled as he brushed by the doctor, wishing his room was closer because he doubted Carson would back down so easily and he gritted his teeth as Carson proved him right.

"No I'm not your therapist, I'm your _friend_ and so are Rodney, Teyla and Ronon!" Carson called out to John's back but the man kept walking away as if the declaration meant nothing. "Damn it! You can fix this, give them back what they want, what you want: your team back, your family put back together again."

Carson's belief that he could undo the damage and was simply choosing not to, it brought John to a stop. Though he didn't turn around, he gritted out one word. "Can't."

Feeling a fluttering of hope, Carson approached John, circled around to face him. "Darn it, son. If it's your hurt pride, Ronon would sooner lob off his arm than be disloyal to you. What he did…said….wanting to go…it was…about his home world, about being loyal to that, not being disloyal to you. The same way that I love Atlantis, but Scotland, it'll forever be in my heart, is my first love. Like Satedan is to him but more because it was taken from him and he can't go back."

It was the first time someone talked about the elephant in the room and _tried_ to see his point of view. Carson wasn't even laying the blame on him for Ronon wanting to leave…or even on Ronon himself. Instead the doctor was trying to get it through his head that Ronon hadn't meant to betray him. It drained John of his anger like the fifty rounds with the pounding bag hadn't. Felt like it drained him of everything that kept him moving, not thinking, trying his hardest to not feel too much. Sidestepping to his right, John leaned his back against the wall, felt like he needed the support and the grounding. He bowed his head and ran his hand across the back of his neck as he admitted miserably, "I know. I just….it pissed me off and it….it hurt, him leaving."

Knowing he shouldn't crowd John, though it was hard when the soldier was finally letting down his guard, was coming off so vulnerable, Carson remained rooted in his place a few feet away. "But Ronon didn't go. He's here…and so are you. So are Rodney and Teyla and the rest of the people on Atlantis that love you. And we're not going anywhere. You can push us away as often as you like but we're a stubborn lot."

But John dejectedly shook his head. "Doesn't matter."

"Course it matters, family always matters," Carson cheerfully insisted, thought for sure John would appreciate his claiming them family, his team and Carson included.

When John raised his eyes, Carson's heart stumbled in its rhythm because it wasn't healing in Sheppard's gaze but desolation and surrender.

Inhaling a steadying breath, John pushed off the wall to his full height. "And sometimes being family…it doesn't matter at all. It only means they can hurt you worse than anyone else." His father and brother had taught him that cruel lesson and he had foolishly thought it didn't apply to the family that he picked for himself. '_John, you dumb stupid idiot. You know this rule! It's been seared into your soul?! And what, you didn't think it worked both ways?! That you didn't have the power to hurt the ones that __you__ claimed as family?! You of all people know what it's like to not be good enough, to be kicked out by the ones you loved, trusted, to be disowned._'

And he'd done the same freaking thing to his team, to his two chosen brothers, his chosen sister: disowned them, pretended he didn't want them in his life, that they weren't good enough. He had hurt them.. like his father and brother had hurt him. '_Better them hurt and pissed at me than dead_,' he consoled himself with because his dad had gotten one thing right about him, his pride, his stubbornness, his _good intentions_, it got people dead. Just ask Holland, or Dix, Colonel Sumner, Ford, the growing number of dead on Atlantis, those killed by their Genii feud or Michael's grab for power, every soul the awaken Wraith stole and then there was Elizabeth, who died to save him and his teammates, thinking they…he was worth her life.

So yeah, he could rail against Colonel Carter's insight about Ronon's desire to leave, be pissed at her decision to reassign Ronon, be hurt by Ronon's original decision to leave, but in the end, it was the wakeup call he needed. He had stuck his head in the sand and pretended he didn't notice the unforgiveable fallout of his decisions, that he didn't regret them, dread what his very next decision might cost him, cost his team. But like his mother's cancer, she couldn't outrun it for long, it eventually caught up with her and demanded its payment, so karma would seek him out.

But he had some choice right here, right now, could make sure no one else paid for his mistakes anymore, that the tally of dead was done racking up under his account. Could ensure that Ronon, Rodney and Teyla's blood wasn't on his hands and just maybe he could live with himself for walking away from them if he kept reminding himself it was in everyone's best interest if their collaborated story ended here and now.

That was what he did, ended things before someone else did. He had asked Nancy for a divorce before she could because it was _his_ fault that their marriage failed, didn't want her to have to feel guilty for officially ending things between them. And he had walked away from his family before his Dad got around to saying out loud '_you're a disgrace to our family legacy and I've written you out of my will._' Somehow he figured that it would hurt less if he did the severing of ties himself…but he had some serious doubts that that was true. Sure didn't feel that way now as he cut himself off from his team. Instead it felt like a wraith feeding but he was the one with his hand on his own chest, sucking his soul right out of his own body.

When John walked away, Carson didn't try and stop him or demand to tend to the Colonel's bleeding hands. Recognized the soldier's dangerous mood, knew that, a wounded animal in severe pain was likely to strike out, even at the ones wanting to help them the most.

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TBC

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Thanks for those out there reading my little story and heartfelt gratitude and love for all of my wonderful reviewers!

Have a great day!

Cheryl


	4. Dissension in the Ranks

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

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Chapter 4: Dissension in the Ranks

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"No way! All the lifesigns are to the west not up over some mountain!" the pimply faced Marine lieutenant heatedly bulked at Ronon's decision to scout the rough mountainous terrain of planet M43-2944.

Rounding on the Marine, Ronon slammed him against the nearest tree and snarled in his face, "You'll do what I say." Then he nearly threw the man toward the mountain as he turned to his other three teammates, "Anyone else want to question my orders?"

There was two sharp "No sirs" from the other two Marines and the scientist of the team, mealy mouthed Dr. Garman, meekly shook his head.

"Good, we're moving out," Ronon commanded, fought against the need to look over his shoulder as he led his team up the terrace incline, didn't want to see how inadequately his teammates were negotiating the trail. Could almost imagine the whining McKay would be doing about now but he would have followed Sheppard's lead and Teyla, she climbed like a goat. As for Sheppard, whatever he sometimes lacked in agility he made up for in stubbornness. _His_ team he wouldn't have to worry about, this team…they were more a liability than an asset. It was sad to think they were the best he had to pick from Atlantis' ranks.

Making the ascent with ease, Ronon's mind wandered, drifting back to his Satedan's team's betrayal, to how blinded he had been, to how horrible it had ended...and what it had cost him. His two former Satedan squad members were dead, Rakai by his own hand, Ara inadvertently by Rakai. And Trye, he had let him go, hadn't wanted his death on his soul, had wanted to salvage some of what he once had.

It was strange that it wasn't those last moments with his Satedan squad that haunted his dreams, that his mind replayed over and over again. No, it was being on the Hive ship, him telling Sheppard "good luck" as their two teams set to part ways, him too cowardice to say what he meant: "stay safe." And Sheppard's silent rejoinder was an understood '_Go screw yourself Ronon_,' because John was pissed, usually was when he dished out the silent treatment. Then John had walked away, had not looked back and it had taken every bit of resolve, every shred of Satedan loyalty bred into Ronon to not follow him, to not rejoin his Atlantis team.

But Ronon had convinced himself that he had made his choice, had made Tyre and the others promises and he had to honor them. So he had turned away, joined his Satedan friends, told himself no one was going to get hurt, that the op was clean and precise, had nearly convinced himself of that child's tale before he heard the unmistakable sound of P90 fire, signaling that his real team was in danger.

If Tyre, Rakai or Ara had truly tried to stop him from leaving them, from running toward the sound of John, Rodney and Teyla in danger, they would have been bleeding on the ground. Ronon _needed_ to reach his team, to ensure nothing happened to them when he wasn't there to protect them. Realized in that moment that they were the people he cared about most in the world and if he lost them…there would be no surviving that.

But no matter how fast he ran, how many Wraith he killed, he couldn't get to his team, to Sheppard, who wasn't answering his radio, none of them were. Had to do one of the hardest things and abandon the hive ship, scamper back to Atlantis for help to save the team that he had led into danger, to rescue his Satedan friends who had misjudged the reinforcements of the Hive ship.

As the seconds had ticked by with inaction back in Atlantis, he felt himself drowning in fear that someone irreplaceable was being taken from him while he ran away, seemingly only to save himself. And his thoughts had kept conjuring up Sheppard, the angry, disappointed look he had leveled at him when they split up. If that was the last time Ronon saw him alive…but he had shut out where that train of thought took him, had refused to believe he'd lose Sheppard, thought they had been through too much to have it end like that.

But that was before older bonds shattered apart with savage finality, until he knew what his old squad had become, what they had bartered away to draw another breath, what they had promised to deliver to the Wraith: Ronon's Atlantis Team. Even worse, Ronon had _helped_ them, had convinced Sheppard to do the mission, counted on John's loyalty to him, used that loyalty…betrayed it, all be it blindly. How did he expect the man to forgive him for that sin?! It had nearly gotten John, Rodney and Teyla killed, could have changed the Replicator war back upon them, could have caused unknown harm to Atlantis and the Earth that John pledged such fealty too, as fiercely as he himself had given such loyalty to Satedan.

His misplaced trust in Tyre had far reaching consequences, yes, but he had thought he had skimmed through without paying too high a price….until John kicked him off his team. It wasn't better that Sheppard had done the same with Teyla and McKay, only added to his guilt because that was surely because of him too. Knew what he should have sought when he caught Sheppard in the mess hall was to convince him to reinstate McKay and Teyla but all he could think about was apologizing, trying to regain Sheppard's trust, somehow get things back the way they had been between him and John. Selfish, so selfish.

To make things worse, it was Colonel Carter that had broken up that fubar encounter, his actions having put Sheppard in trouble with her. Like Sheppard's decision to go on the mission surely had. Suddenly Ronon knew he had to talk to her, make her realize the mission screw up, that was on him. That Sheppard shouldn't carry the blame for his mistakes, refused to let Sheppard's career or Carter's opinion of Sheppard be damaged over his poor judgement, not John's. Was trying to decide how to say all that to Carter when he crested the mountain and immediately dropped into a crouch, signaled his team to do the same.

In the valley on the other side of the mountain was a Wraith ship, big enough to maybe be a hibernation vessel.

"Holy crap! How'd you know it was here?!" the formerly insubordinate Lt. exclaimed, looking to Ronon now with a bit of hero worship.

But Ronon felt shamed at receiving the praise he wasn't due. "Colonel Sheppard had a hunch when we were here last. The villagers had some wraith tech but they swore they had never been culled and there were faint energy readings coming from this direction. But we didn't have time to check them out." John had bet that the wraith had been there once, left something behind that the villagers were ransacking over the years. And he'd been right, Ronon had trusted John to be right, was why he opted to come back to the planet for the follow-up. Maybe he wanted to come there because it felt like unfinished business or else he simply wanted to do something that reminded him of his team. He refused to dwell on which instinct drove him.

Instincts….that was another thing. Sure, he could sense danger in almost every environment but _Sheppard_ had hunches that were rarely wrong and they prevented them from being in danger in the first place. Yet another trait that made John a great leader. '_Yeah and I couldn't even see that Tyre was using me to lead my team into a trap.' _

Burying his disruptive thoughts, Ronon looked over his shoulder, saw his scientist was hovering on the other side of the mountain like a scared Funja. He pointed to Dr. Garman and then waved him to join him on the mountain's crest, thought he was going to have to make the silent command again at the man's hesitation. Finally Garman clamored clumsily up the incline, did a crawl to Ronon's position and went stiff board tense when he caught sight of the Wraith ship.

"Do you have any life signs?" Ronon demanded, wished he could operate the stupid device on his own but wasn't going to ruin his lineage by having the Ancient gene given to him. When Garman touched the handheld device blips starting showing on the screen that Ronon knew were lifesigns…but they were still only West…not showing in front of them.

"So it's an abandoned ship?" Garman theorized and Ronon growled back, "Or full of hibernating Wraith," hated that the scientist didn't even know Wraith didn't show lifesigns if they were in hibernation. Couldn't help wishing that McKay was there, someone whose knowledge and capabilities he could trust with his life. Course that brought to mind the other two people he wished were there with him.

'_Well I'm about to get one of those people here_ _with me_,' he thought but didn't know if that was the good news considering how things had gone between him and Sheppard in the mess hall. "We have to open a channel to Atlantis," he announced to his team, accepting that things had just gotten above his leadership scope.

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Standing on the side of the platform with his gate team and four extra Marines, John signaled the gate tech to open the worm hole to M43-2944. '_Just what I need, __another__ ship filled with snoozing Wraith that I can wake up so they too can join in on the feeding frenzy in the galaxy,_' he sourly thought, because his luck with letting sleeping Wraith lay wasn't good.

The whoosh of the wormhole filled the platform but he was distracted by the grumbling coming up behind him, grumbling he knew only too well. Without turning around, he groused, "What are you doing here, McKay?"

Self-importantly shoving his way through the Marines surrounding Sheppard, Rodney, geared out in his gate team attire, gained the Colonel's side. "Ah, Wraith ship. Possible hibernation in process. You do remember what happened last time when we went on a crashed ship that didn't show any life signs?!"

"Yes, Rodney, I remember," John lowly bit out, didn't like the memories of foolishly walking two naïve scientists into their deaths when a cannibal Wraith was on the loose.

Though Sheppard's tone was far from welcoming, Rodney pressed on. "You needed me then, you might need me now. I can certainly read the lifesigns indicator more effectively than Garman, who, seriously, he jumps at spiders, how did Ronon think picking him for his team was a good idea?!" And ok, he was little bit hurt that Ronon hadn't begged him to be on his team, and neither did Teyla. I mean, who was more knowledgeable than him?! No one, that was who.

John rounded on Rodney. "We're not discussing Garman, we're discussing you. And you're not going, McKay!" Rodney was off the gate team lists, was safe, John wasn't putting him out there again.

"Why not?! Technically I'm not horning in on your precious new team, I'm helping Ronon's. I bet he wouldn't mind some competency if he's going into a wraith ship, _again_." But when Sheppard's features tightened into even more of a pissed off expression, Rodney regretted bringing up the 'do a heist on a hive ship' last mission. He stammered, "I mean…if they are in hibernation, start waking up…it's better to have more than one lifesigns scanner tracking them, right?"

But John opened his mouth to say he'd read the stupid scanner himself but another voice gave answer to Rodney's suggestion.

"You're right, McKay. Go along with Sheppard's team," Colonel Carter decreed as she approached, wasn't pleased to find Sheppard wasn't utilizing the best personnel for the mission, which clearly was McKay. Sure, Sheppard had explained his round of Marine misfits on his team but not wanting McKay on this mission, that seemed to scream personal issues. It gave her new insight to Sheppard splitting up his entire team, that maybe it wasn't done in pique because she was removing Dex, spoke of other problems between McKay and Sheppard, maybe even Emmagan and Sheppard. Rodney getting under Sheppard's skin, she got that, he could be…well, _Rodney. _And Teyla_, _she didn't know enough about the Athosian woman to make a judgement call on what would have caused her to suddenly be persona non grata with Sheppard. But clearly Sheppard's legendary gateteam had had problems boiling under the surface long before she got there. It made her more sure of her decision to reassign Ronon, to restructure the team before it ended disastrously, which could have had dire consequences for Atlantis.

Pissed that Carter couldn't even let him run his missions without butting in, not to mention being oblivious that McKay was sporting a freaking bandage, Sheppard grated out between his teeth, "McKay's wounded Colonel!" In case the Colonel needed visual aids for that to sink in, he reached out, coiled his fingers around Rodney's wrist and raised his friend's hand, the one brandishing a white bandage.

Ignoring the fact that Sam had the final say in the debate, that she was the one he should be convincing, Rodney snapped at Sheppard, "Carson patched it up and besides, it's not my dominate hand. I can hold a lifesigns reader just fine, Colonel," couldn't believe the man was trying to sideline him?!

"I agree with McKay, not to mention, he'll know what Wraith systems and equipment will help us gather information or intercept communication between their hives," Carter advocated but her tone was steel as she laid down the law to her Lt. Colonel with an inflexible, "He's goin. Colonel Sheppard."

"I would also like to join the team," Teyla declared as she ran up to the gathered strike force, all geared up. Her eyes did a hit and run with John's and seeing the protest in his expression, she made her appeal to Colonel Carter. "Colonel, I can sense the Wraith, can tell if there are any on the ship, even in hibernation."

Appreciating Emmagan's perceptiveness to see the need for her rare skill on the mission, Carter readily agreed to her request without running it by Sheppard. "Fine. You'll round out the team."

"Colonel…" John growled in protest but Carter spoke over him.

"Colonel Sheppard, the wormhole's open. I suggest you and your team go through it," Sam tightly ordered, didn't appreciate Sheppard second guessing her decisions in front of the gathered strike force or the whole gate control staff. If he had issues with his former teammates he'd have to stow it. She wouldn't allow personal disputes to disrupt Stargate operations.

"Yes, Colonel," John snapped back, knew by Carter's expression that this was another no win situation. "When we have the tech secured and the ship destroyed, we'll radio for pickup." Then gave a nod to the Marines to head through the gate.

"John…" Teyla began, wanted to maybe offer up an apology for forcing John's hand but John gave her a quelling look, said absolutely nothing before walking through the gate. John's new teammates followed in his wake. However Teyla had envisioned her first meeting with John since their team had been dissolved, this was very much worse, gave her little hope of convincing John to put their team back together again. With that disheartening thought, she exchanged a commiserating look with Rodney at their unfavorable welcome to the mission before they walked together through the gate.

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Ronon expected extra Marines to join Sheppard's gate team, what he wasn't expecting was the addition of Teyla and McKay. Suddenly he felt a stab of jealousy that they had regained Sheppard's good favor while he hadn't but then he saw the unhappy expressions on his ex-teammate's faces. He noted that, though John was asking Teyla if she felt any Wraith presence, he didn't look at her, any more than he'd look at McKay. So McKay and Teyla were there but Ronon got the impression John wasn't happy about it.

Teyla closed her eyes, concentrated a moment while the gathered eleven soldiers and two scientists cooled their heels on the mountain. Her eyes still not open, Teyla began talking, "I have a faint sense of…something."

"Wraith something or Michael hybrid something or something else something?" John pressed, was using a frustrated tone he usually reserved for McKay but never Teyla.

Feeling John's displeasure with her made it hard for Teyla to hone her emotions to the task at hand. Lives were at stake, she couldn't be distracted. Opening her eyes, she looked to John. "I am fairly certain there are Wraith on the ship. Their essences are flickering in and out so they might be in hibernation or on the brink of death."

"We couldn't get that lucky," Rodney groused, wilted a little under Sheppard's glare at his outburst.

"Taking a nap or dying, be on alert. They'll be desperate for a feeding and if they do get feed, we could end up with a ship full of Wraith to deal with," Sheppard advised, eyes landing on Ronon, who gave a nod, accepting that he was responsible to keep his team in line as Sheppard would be for his own team along with the extra Marines. Teyla and McKay they didn't need babysitting, were old pros at this walking into hell thing. "Ok, we're going in there to ransack their tech, quickly and quietly, toss some incendiary devices in the sweet spots and get out."

"Then blow it up," Ronon concluded with a smile, missed the answering smirk John usually graced him with, instead John's come back was a subdued, "Yeah." Then John was giving out orders, "My team and I'll head straight in, Lt. Ingram, your team circles around to the west, Ronon you come in from the east. McKay you're with me, Telya you're with Ingram. Let's do this." Then John was moving out, his misfit team following in his wake as he kept low. The Marine contingent moved to the right while Ronon led his team to the left.

Teyla knew it was petty but she was upset John didn't pick her to go along with his team. Surely her senses were more invaluable than the lifesigns scanner Rodney could wield, especially as John had assigned himself to be the first team inside the ship. She couldn't help shooting a look to Ronon as they parted ways, saw the way he tracked John's progress a moment before he headed out with his own team. And if she were honest with herself, Rodney wasn't being garnered with any of Sheppard's usual warm regard though he was picked for John's team, was relegated to the back of the pack, keeping low as he shuffled along behind the last Marine in John's troupe.

No, she, Ronon and Rodney were all there with John but they were not truly _with him_, he was making sure of that.

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Halting before the entrance to the ship, John waved Rodney to come up from the back to crouch down beside him, whispered, "How's it looking?"

Consulting the lifesigns indicator, Rodney reported, "Nothing showing up…yet," he cautioned, hated how his memories kept flittering back to that first fateful trip inside a supposedly abandoned wraith ship, a recklessly determined Major Sheppard going up against that cannibal psychic wraith all on his own, how the wraith had nearly killed Sheppard. The fear of that happening, it had gotten Rodney running willingly _toward_ danger, for the first time in his life, to face off with said crazy strong Wraith. Got there in time to shoot the wraith, or at least shoot at it, did enough to distract it so it didn't kill a downed Sheppard with its bare hands.

Brendan Gall had been right, he had changed, changed even more after that ill-fated side trip. Didn't want to sit on his hands if he could save lives, especially lives he had come to care about. And whether Sheppard liked it or not, that meant him, saving him, going on stupidly dangerous excursions into derelict ships that could be teeming with Wraith if it meant Sheppard didn't get himself killed, Ronon too. And Teyla now that she'd joined the fun.

"But you and I both know how quickly things can go from 'whew, no Wraith' to running for our lives to get away from a horde of them..or one very sicko one," Rodney cautioned, to which John simply nodded his head, wasn't into reminiscing good times with McKay. Then John signaled to the approaching Marine leader on the left and Ronon on the right that he was moving forward, boldly stepping into the unknown, M90 at the ready with its flashlight on. And Rodney followed on his heels before the Marines in John's "team" could beat him to that venerated position.

The smell hit John first, that organic wraith ship smell but gone bad, like rotten fruit. He bit back a gag but Rodney didn't bother.

"Holy crap, that's awful!? Is this what dead wraith past their expiration date smells like ?! Or is it their ship decomposing?!" Rodney choked back another dry gag, clamping his mouth shut, trying not to inhale. The Marine behind him didn't do so good controlling his stomach, got sick right there at the door entrance. "Oh, wonderful, that's a great welcome mat for everyone coming in behind us," he jeered looking back to see the red haired, freckled faced Marine wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

"Sorry, sir," Sgt. Vanson offered, not to McKay but to Sheppard but the Colonel didn't bother even acknowledging him and the Marine somehow hoped he didn't realize what he'd done but doubted it. The colonel didn't tend to miss much on a mission. Ignored the grumbling of Lt. Yoder and Sgt. Donecker, who was bringing up the rear of their team as he stepped into the heart of the wraith ship, his first such excursion.

John put another mental note in Vanson's file. How were they supposed to do stealth missions when the kid upchucked all over the place? How had Lorne phrased it in the sergeant's file, "has a perchance to react negatively to foreign smells" and John had had one prior occasion to witness this "negative reaction". It shouldn't be a thing, a weak stomach, but this was grim work, not to mention stealth wasn't just about a lack of sound, was about keeping your smell to a bare minimum and being able to react at any given moment to a threat, not be too busy decorating the wraith ship floor to fend off a hungry wraith.

John was starting to second guess his decision to go with the three Marines he had for this particular mission. His life wasn't the only one their incompetency could put in jeopardy here. Hated that he didn't sweat it too much because Ronon, Teyla and McKay were there, trusted them to fully cover any shortcomings of his Marine "team" even as he knew he shouldn't have to put them in that position, shouldn't have to count on them to makeup for the shortfalls, that was _his_ job. As he took a few more steps into the ship, he noted it split into three directions so he halted, waited for Ronon and Ingram's teams to join him.

Purposely reaching the entrance before Ingram's Marine team could, Ronon headed into the ship, was anxious to join up with Sheppard and his unskilled Marine lackeys. He didn't want Sheppard to get into anything dicey without being there to back him up. Grimly he remembered he had a "team" he was responsible for, that he had to consider their welfare when he reacted to whatever danger came at them. That he could not let his feelings, his _loyalties_ dictate who he protected.

Not for the first time, he determined that leading _sucked_. Didn't know how John did it so effortlessly when he was struggling, had once not struggled but on Satedan it had been different. Losing lives, that had not been acceptable but it had been _expected._ You did the mission, no matter the cost. There was no, "leave no one behind" mantra, was all about "victory at any cost".

Ronon cursed John and his hero, save-everyone-if-we-possibly-can, thinking because it had started to rub off on him. And he wasn't liking it, not when his true team, his _family_ couldn't be his priority. It made him respond to John a little bit gruffly, well more gruffly than he normally did. "What's the hold up?" he lowly demanded, bypassing John's "team" and McKay to stand in front of Sheppard.

"I need Teyla up here before we split up," John supplied, pretending he didn't notice Ronon's testy tone.

"Well she'd be here with you if you hadn't stuck her with the Marines," Rodney huffed, didn't back down when John glowered at him.

Luckily, Teyla entered the ship about then, John noticed she was a couple steps ahead of Ingram. He didn't have to wave her forward as she purposely joined John's gathered brain trust. Just like he didn't have to ask his question before she was answering it, "I sense their presence to the right," her eyes drifting down that corridor. John turned to Rodney but he too knew what he wanted before he had to verbalize it.

"If this ship is laid out anything like other Wraith designs, the good tech is straight ahead." Rodney jutted his chin toward the middle corridor.

John nodded, processing the info. He looked back to the Marines crowding into the "entrance hall" of the ship. "Ingrams take your team left and put the explosives at structure points. Ronon go straight with Rodney and gut this thing of anything interesting, but **quickly**," that last he directed at McKay.

Affronted, Rodney protested, "What?! I can be quick?!"

"My team and Teyla will check out the bunk beds, see if anyone's waking from their nap time," John said, assigning himself the potentially most lethal task.

Ronon didn't miss that detail. "I'll come with you," he announced, and yup, he wasn't thinking of his team right then, did in hindsight a second later. "My team can play porters for McKay, haul anything he wants to take back home."

But John blocked Ronon attempt to walk by him into the right corridor, commanded, "No, you stay with your team. My team's got this."

"Do they?! How many wraith have they gone up against, all three of them combined?! Two or is it five?" Ronon reproachfully contested John's faith in the three Marines, faith that Sheppard was withholding from him. But it was more than jealousy that had him speaking up, was fear, worry that Sheppard's misplaced faith in the three Marines was putting John's life in danger. Teyla's life too if they did end up facing off with waking Wraith.

Lowly, so his voice wouldn't carry further than to Ronon, maybe Teyla since she was invading his personal space bubble, John retorted, "I'll take care of my team, maybe you should think about taking care of _yours_." A reprimand in there, not buried too deeply either, at Ronon's notion to bail on his team to back up John's.

Ronon wanted to resort to violence, to shove Sheppard, to rail at him that his team was right there. Those people over there, his own "team", they were hollow replacements for the real thing. Sensing Ronon's emotional reaction to John's admonishment, Teyla stepped between him and John, faced him. "Ronon, John and I will be alright. And we can radio if we need your assistance."

"Or, you know,….need your _good luck wishes_," John snidely quipped, remembered this scene playing out a whole different way when Ronon was set to go off into the sunset with his Satedan BFFs. '_Ronon hadn't worried about your wellbeing then, had he?! On a hive ship teaming with very much awake and lethal Wraith. No, he had wished you freaking "good luck", like that did you a bit of __good__ when you, Teyla and Rodney got outnumbered by Wraith and oh, yeah, were set up by his so delightful Satedan BFFs.'_

Again predicting Ronon's volatile response, Teyla threw her weight against Ronon, just in time to hold him back from going for John. But she couldn't stop the two men from speaking over her head, doing more damage to each other. "Tell me again how you're not punishing me?! I said I didn't betray you but that doesn't matter, does it?! You're pissed at me and won't let it go, won't even trust me to have your back?!"

"I don't need you to have my back!" John lowly snarled.

Suddenly Rodney was there, joining the fray, hissing under his breath, "Maybe it's escaped your notice but we're in a Wraith ship! On a mission?! Trying to NOT wake up who knows how many anorexic Wraith?!"

John clamped his mouth shut, shamed that Rodney of all people had to get his head back in the game, to the mission, to protecting the freaking people under his command, under his protection. "Right, I was having so much fun reminiscing I forgot. Steal stuff, don't wake up Wraith, blow up ship. I think I have my priorities back in order, how about you?" he demanded of Ronon but there was a tinge of honest inquiry, even a drop of concern in that question.

Ronon realized that, if he declared that he was focused on the mission, John would _trust_ him to do his part. And that was enough for him right then, that shred of trust bestowed on him. "My team and I will go with McKay." Brushing by McKay, he stalked off down the corridor. Ronon's team shot Sheppard a confused look before he jerked his head for them to follow their leader. They filed out quietly after Dex without further qualms.

Turning to see that Rodney was still standing there, wasn't following Ronon, John didn't even try to keep the frustration out of his tone. "McKay.._mission_…"

"Yeah, mission," Rodney glumly repeated, like he wasn't the one who forced John to concentrate on the mission instead of the personal fireworks going on with his former teammates. Sighing, he trudged into the corridor where Ronon had disappeared.

When John gave a hand signal for his team to head out, Teyla didn't miss the abrasions on John's knuckles, knew how such injuries could be attained. Wondered if one of John's missions had required a physical confrontation or if he had fought someone..or something in Atlantis. It disturbed her that her instincts said it wasn't a person but an object that John had come to blows with, signaling heightened emotions John usually had under strident control. But that wasn't true here, now, his open bitter argument with Ronon proved it.

It worried her, _John_ worried her. Not for her safety going into a potentially dangerous situation but for John, his wellbeing. And yes, she, Ronon and Rodney were there to safeguard him this mission but who would be there on the next, and the one after. She gave a look over her shoulder to the "team" John had assembled and she cringed. She knew two of the Marines and did not look favorably upon their skills. The third she was not familiar with but she was guessing his skills were also lacking and Ronon had certainly known the three did not have much experience fighting the Wraith.

'_What are you doing, John_?!' she wanted to beseech the man walking ahead of her. But knew he had shut her out, was treating her like a stranger. No, worse than a stranger, like someone he no longer had any affection for. But she decidedly did not feel the same way about him, her affection for him was as deep as ever, as was Rodney's and Ronon's. And with that affection came concern and the weight of safeguarding his life, sometimes above her own life.

How could John think anyone else he might choose for his team would ever be as devoted to him as his former teammates?! That simply wasn't possible.

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Ronon had reached the computer nerve center of the ship before Rodney could catch up with him. The Satedan was barking out orders for his lackeys to set explosives around the room as Rodney did a visual sweep of the space, looking for the best goodies. He pointed to various tech as he ordered, "Garman, take that panel, that one and that one" before he picked a panel for himself to disconnect, purposefully the one nearest Ronon's brooding figure.

Though he was concentrating on disengaging the gooey organic tendrils from the panel he wanted, Rodney was very adept at multitasking. Could always go off on a rant while working. "What was that back there?! Aren't you deep enough in Sheppard's bad graces as it is?! Did you want to make sure you really pissed him off by going all cave man, pound on your chest, with him?!" he demanded of Ronon.

"Just do your job!" Ronon growled, wished there was enough room in the chamber to actually get away from McKay's lecture but he didn't think the entire _ship _would be a big enough space to accomplish that.

"Oh now I'm the one not doing _his_ job?!" Rodney fumed. "You were the one getting into a yelling match with Sheppard! Which, maybe in your head is akin to saying, 'let's be friends again' but in civilized cultures, it's so isn't that?!"

"What does it matter, he wouldn't listen to anything I have to say!" Ronon just barely kept his tone below the decibel of a shout.

Rodney jerked his eyes up to Ronon, agitatedly exclaimed, "And what?! You think I'm having any better luck?! Even Teyla's walking on egg shells around him."

Confused by Rodney's saying, Ronon began, "Why would there be egg shells…you know what, doesn't matter."

Rodney swallowed a sigh. "_Meaning_, he's not letting her back in either. Is doing the whole disavow thing like he doesn't even know us."

"But he does know us…and we know him," Ronon insisted like Rodney was the one not getting that.

This time Rodney just couldn't bite back the sigh when Ronon stated the obvious, like he thought Rodney was the stupid one in the group. "Yes, I'm not the one you need to convince."

"If Teyla can't get through to him, what chance do I have?!" Ronon growled, true frustration and a dash of sulking in his tone.

"Right, because that would mean using _words_ and words not _yelled,_" Rodney sarcastically drawled. At Ronon's seething silence, he chastised himself, '_This isn't helping, me tearing into Ronon_.' "Look, we both…well, and Teyla too…we all want the same thing, right?! Back in John's good graces, back on his team?"

"Yeah," Ronon muttered, didn't know why McKay had to have everything said out loud. Sheppard, he understood him without them having to actually talk. Well he usually did. Lately it was like John was the one that didn't know _him_. Especially if John thought he couldn't trust him to put his life before his own.

Rodney tried to make things simple even as he knew nothing about any of this was simple. "Ok, well then maybe if all three of us talk to Sheppard, we can get it through his thick head to put our team back together again."

"He won't…" Ronon resignedly shot down Rodney's pipedream. "He doesn't trust me, proved it just now," regret and shame clawing in his chest for supremacy.

And how did McKay respond to his vulnerable admission?! He snorted, goaded, "Oh please, I didn't take you for being a drama queen."

Knowing the insult that was, Ronon grabbed McKay by his jacket lapel but Rodney was already raising his hands in supplication. "Whow, whoa, Chewbecca, calm down. We're all on edge and what I meant…should have _said_ was…that back there with Sheppard, it wasn't about trust it was about you refusing to follow his orders. So maybe you want to talk about your trust issues." Seeing whatever calmness he had managed to gain in Ronon slipping away, he hurriedly tagged on, "I'm not judging just…with what happened…you might….I certainly would…it's natural for you to be shaky on handing out trust right now."

That had Ronon snarling out a denial. "I'm not shaky…I **trust** Sheppard, more than anyone." He roughly released Rodney, knew the scientist wasn't the one he was truly mad at. Was himself, and yeah, Sheppard too. "It's those idiots he's picked for his team that I don't trust."

"Yeah, well the last two sets of replacements for us had Sheppard visiting the infirmary," Rodney offhandedly remarked as he returned to his work but Ronon's deadly quiet, "What?" had him focusing on his teammate. Knew he again had stuck his foot in his mouth by the thunderous expression on Ronon's face. "No, no, not hurt, not him. Them, they got hurt. Carson swore to me John wasn't hurt, only his clumsy inept teammates."

"Except for his hands," Ronon qualified to which Rodney gave a stupefied, "What?" to which Ronon supplied "His knuckles, they were all scraped up."

"No they weren't…were they?" Rodney half stated half questioned. "I didn't notice. They weren't when I saw him in the infirmary three days ago.

Ronon was about to grill Rodney on the specifics of that encounter when the dreaded sound of P90 fire reverberated through the air. "Not again!" Ronon shouted, didn't appreciate the deju vu as he brushed by Rodney and shoulder checked one of his teammates as he ran for the source of the gunfire, already knowing in his gut it was Sheppard's team, that whenever there was trouble, Sheppard was at the heart of it. "Sheppard, what's happening!" he shouted in his radio, praying this time he'd get a response, that he wasn't going to reach his friend too late, that words of anger wouldn't be the last things they said to each other.

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TBC

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Come on I had to have one good cliffy in this story?! And I totally wasn't going to go all action sequence here but then this plot bunny hopped right into my head about having them boarding a wraith ship and the old team has to work together but it's not like the old magic. Boy, these plot bunnies have no mercy on our team!

Really value all your reviews and encouragement (and loving your worry for the team!)

Have a great day!


	5. SNAFU

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

Author's Notes: Chapter title is a military term which translates (with my own editing for content) : Situation Now All F(udged) Up.

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CHAPTER 5: SNAFU

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With Ronon's hasty departure, Rodney was torn between doing his duty and going to aid his teammates, but he knew that Sheppard was trusting him to do his part of the mission. He saw that Ronon's lackeys were standing around, wondering what to do. Clearly not a one of them could figure out if they should follow their leader, who had bolted without a word to them, or do as Sheppard ordered and help Rodney steal tech. Rodney took charge by snapping his fingers at them. "No, no, you stay with me. Follow Colonel Sheppard's orders and help me pack up this tech."

Hastily yanking the tendril from the ship to disconnect the panel, he shoved it into the arms of a Marine, pointed the other marines to the tech Garman had already disconnected. Then he was hurrying over to another panel, saw that his fellow scientist was paler than a ghost and was nervously side stepping toward the corridor and the known exit to the ship.

"Garman, get that panel!" At the man's protesting look of terror, especially at the uproariously sound of more gunfire echoing through the ship's walls, Rodney snapped, "Surprise surprise, being on a gate team isn't all fun and games! Garman, you have a job to do, do it!"

Garman didn't have to know Rodney was also giving himself that biting speech. But Rodney's instincts were not to run for the exit but, as crazy as it was, he ached to once again run into danger. To do better than he had done on the hive ship, to not run away while Sheppard and Teyla got taken. To be their rescuer. Besides it was his turn, right? Sheppard had saved him last time so it was his time to go all hero on the Colonel.

SGATSGATSGAT _A Few Minutes Prior_ STAGSTAGSTAGSTAG

It still creeped John out, the hibernation chambers cocooned in the wall like a bad black and white horror movie. He could see the shadows of sleeping wraith and couldn't help but train his gun on them, feared that he would open fire if there so much as a flick of dust moving in the chambers. "Teyla, any of them showing signs of waking up?" he asked, his voice quiet in respect to their surroundings.

Telya's eyes were closed to better assess her link to the Wraith, trusted John to protect her should danger come when she was focused inward. "It is hard to tell, their senses are….. fluctuating."

"That doesn't sound all that reassuring," John drawled, eyeing up the cocoons starting from the one right in front of him and going up three stories. Not to mention the corridor ahead was lined with cocoons that probably led to another room full of even more cocoons. In his experience, the Wraith didn't believe in doing anything small time.

His three Marines who he had tasked with setting charges around the cocoons were dealing with the creep factor in various degrees, none of them exactly endearing them to Sheppard.

Lt. Yoder, a tall lanky brunette in his mid-twenties who loved to talk about his home state of Pennsylvania, even if no one wanted to hear it, was entirely too fascinated with their sleeping predators. "They look…gooey in there," he reported, leaning over close to the hibernation cocoon beside the explosive charges he had stuck to the ship's organic wall. He seemed to be fighting the urge to press his face against the murky film to get a better look see. "Think they come out wired and running for the closest snack or more zombie like? You know, trying to limber up, stumbling, arms dragging on the ground." He gave a chuckle. "I dressed up as a zombie one year, won my fraternity prize for best portrayal. I did this moaning….dragging my feet amble and my face was covered in this sticky goo I made out of honey that I put…"

"Yoder, how about we reminisce your good old college days some other time," Sheppard cut across the Marine's story, his tone half way between laid back but there was an edge of command to it that had the Lt. responsing with a disciplined, "Yes sir," before he crossed to another section and attached another explosive device.

Sgt. Vanson, having already efficiently placed his three devices, was in the dead center of the chamber, his fingers nervously clutching his P90's gun barrel, magazine and trigger. He was like a live action bobble head, his head swinging all directions, left, right, down the corridor and up the wall of cocoons. Sweat was beeding on his forehead and he was shifting on his feet every few seconds but always making sure he remained in the middle of the room, as far away from the cocoons as he could get. But, the good news was, he had yet to hurl again.

The last man making up John's team was Sgt Donecker who was a little older than his fellow Marines. He had that bodybuilder look, probably trying to compensate for what he lacked in intimidation by his shorter stature. Instead of cowering away from the cocoons or fanboying over them, he was prowling the corridor eyeing up the enemy surrounding him on both sides. But there was anticipation in his glances to the cocoons, like he was itching for something to burst out at him, was pumped up on adrenaline and wanted the fight to come.

John was about to tell him to stop with the prowling when he noticed Teyla's stillness, saw her eyes fly open and drift down the corridor where Donecker was. Coming to her side, Sheppard quietly inquired, "Teyla?"

"Colonel, I fear some of them are waking up," she announced, bringing her P90 up into her arms and sighting it the way she perceived the threat. "Maybe our presence triggered their awakening or they have some sensor in the ship to let them know there are intruders."

That snagged Donecker's attention had him eagerly asking "They are waking up?" his M90 zeroing on the closest cocoon, his finger on the trigger, he was a hairsbreadth away from firing when John ordered in a low hiss, "No one fire until we have to! We need to hold our position, give McKay time to get the tech out. Besides, we don't want to wake up more of them, especially not with us conveniently here for them to snack on right out of their beds."

But he wasn't thinking of just the danger to his team if they woke up more Wraith than were already shaking off hibernation. No, he was thinking of the bigger picture, if the Wraith overran them, got free of the ship before they blew it. He remembered killing that first queen, not knowing the ramifications, her dark prediction, that he didn't know what he had done, that all of the wraith sleeping would wake up. And they had and been hungry, very hungry. It was akin to starting an apocalypse for this galaxy and he had kicked it off…with a good intentioned rescue mission and the taking of one queen's life.

It was the bitterest lesson the Pegasus galaxy kept teaching him: that no matter how good your motives, it could lead to something you never intended, something undecidedly horrible. That first rescue mission, helping the Hoffan's perfect their vaccine, experimenting on Michael, changing the Replicators coding, his brainy idea to fly Atlantis away from Oberoth's attack, which he enacted too soon, causing Elizabeth to be mortally injured, then there was the whole injecting Elizabeth with nanites. And the list wasn't done, John knew that, not as long as they stayed in the galaxy, as long as he stayed there.

John was about to radio Rodney, ask how much time he needed and warn Ronon and Ingram of the danger when the not so reassuring sight of a light flickering to life around the corner from where Donecker stood. Suddenly John remembered that's how it started, on that first hibernation ship…with the cocoons light up…and then movement. "Oh crap," he muttered, hoped they had the same good luck to escape this ship before the Wraith get up.

"I'll check it out," Donecker volunteered, already doing a fast sprint to the juncture.

"Sargent, no! Hold your position!" but Donecker was already making the turn for the corner and John read his expression even from the distance that separated them. It was that silent unmanly scream of terror that every Marine he'd worked with tried to clamp down on. Then Donecker was pumping rounds of ammo at whatever he saw but wasn't retreating, was doing some cowboy/hero grand standing by refusing to give ground…to freaking wraith.

"Donecker, fall back to the main room!" Sheppard barked even as he ran forward to join his sergeant's fight, Teyla keeping pace with him. "Yoder, Vanson, stay where you are, don't let any Wraith get past you!" he ordered on the run, hoped they obeyed him unlike Donecker was doing. Then Ronon was shouting in his ear mic, "Sheppard!? What's happened?!"

But he didn't get a chance to reply when a Wraith knocked Donecker over, leapt over the downed Marine and came charging at him. He let his P90 give his reply on the whole 'would you like to do dinner' invite. Stepping over the dead Wraith, he reached Donecker, yanked the Marine to his feet even as he one handedly fired his rifle, hitting some of the twenty Wraith crowding the corridor on their way to them. Teyla's gunfire peppered the ones he didn't take down.

Giving Donecker a shove down the corridor toward Yoder and Vanson, Sheppard shouted above the gunfire, "Get back there and hold the line!"

But Donecker protested, "If we let them make the turn, we'll be on the defensive!" He made to rejoin Sheppard and Teyla but Sheppard blocked him with a hand on his chest, gave him a none too gentle shove back.

"Offensive's no good when the odds are thousands to one against you!" he growled. "Now back up Vanson and Yoder and that's a damn order!" Didn't have time to wait for Donecker to obey, was too busy mowing down more Wraith stepping over their fallen comrades. Keying his radio he yelled to be heard over the deafening salvos. "We got waking Wraith! Rodney, how's the tech hijacking going?!"

"We're almost done!" Rodney's stressed reply came through the coms.

"Well wrap it up. Grab whatever you can carry and get out of here. Ingram, your charges set?" But John didn't hear the reply because one of the Wraith did a banshee scream and lead more of his wraith brethren on a group charge to overrun their position.

At John's side, Teyla concentrated her shots on the Wraith to the left, knowing John would handle the ones on the right but there were many and she sensed more waking every second. "John an alarming number are waking. We need to retreat back to the others," even as she saw more Wraith appearing behind the ones she was dropping.

"Do it!" he ordered, not taking his eyes off the advancing enemy of pausing in his own firing…and also not making any indication that he would retreat like he was ordering her to. Without looking, he knew she wasn't moving, seemed like no one was taking his orders seriously today. "Teyla go! I'll hold them off long as I can before joining you." He refused to let another hive of wraith awaken and escape to wreak havoc on so many lives on his watch, to make the same tragic mistake twice.

But Teyla countered with a stubborn, "I am not leaving your side, John." Firming up her stance, she vowed to not give any ground, to stand with John even if the Wraith were likely to overpower them both.

"I gave you an order!" John shouted, wished he had the time to grab her and shake some sense into her but was required to handle the M90 with both handles to control the spray of his bullets. Which suddenly ran dry, "Changing ammo!" he announced to Teyla who changed her target focus to every Wraith lined up across the corridor.

Slapping the ammo clip into the magazine, he barked into his comm that was heavy with voices demanding his status. "Ingram, repeat. Are your charges set?!"

"Yes sir! Should we come to your position?!" came Ingram's replied.

"No, help Ronon's team get the tech out of here then hold outside to a safe distance, radio me when you're there and get ready to detonate this place. It's gonna be close! You reading that Ronon?"

"My team's on it," Ronon replied as he was almost upon John's position, wholly trusted McKay to do what he did almost better than fidget with Ancient tech: boss people around. He'd have his team at his beck and call just fine without him there. Where he needed to be was with Sheppard and Teyla. He heard a grumbled, "Yeah, sure we are," over the radio from Rodney to confirm his confidence wasn't misplaced.

Knowing everyone else was clear on what he expected of them, John started to contemplate retreating, just a little ways, you know, only to make the Wraith get some fake confidence they were winning. But he didn't have a chance to tell Teyla his thoughts when something caught his attention in the hallway at his back, the one between him and his reinforcements…namely lights coming in the chambers. "Oh crap," he muttered, as he saw moving shades in the creepy pods.

"Marines time to rack up your wraith count!" he called down the hallway to his fellow teammates. "Target the cocoons in the hallway. I'm not real keen on getting trapped between zombie wraith." To Teyla, he suggested, "We better…."

"Retreat. The both of us," she completed for him. She wore a relieved look on her determined features as John matched her pace as they started putting action to words and backing up.

Then the sound of more M90 fire was almost deafening in the confined space as the Marines in the main cocoon room started riddling the cocoons on both sides of the hallway with bullets. But as it turned out, they should have started their extermination from the top and moved their way down, only realized that when two Wraith dropped down to the floor from above. Landing in an animalist crouch, they immediately sprang for their feed: John and Teyla.

"Teyla!" Ronon shouted in warning as he entered the scene, frustrated that he didn't have a shot at the Wraith targeting his friends, not unless he wanted to shoot through the three green Marines. But his warning call was enough, had Teyla turning just in time to take out the two Wraith. But whatever relief Ronon felt at having arrived just in time faded when more Wraith dropped down from cocoons tucked into the walls above, were landing between his friends and the three Marines and Ronon, were effectively boxing in John and Teyla.

Realizing they were fighting their battle on two fronts, John pulled out his .45 handgun and used it against the new threat while still mowing down the other Wraith still coming from the original corridor with his P90. Didn't have time to look for Ronon's position but felt a welling relief to know he was there, getting out alive felt more doable with most of his team by his side. And speaking of the last member of his team….Not having a free hand to tap his radio he called out to Ronon, "Ronon, tell Rodney to double time it out the door! We can't hold them back much longer!"

Having designated herself the task of defending her and John against their newest front of enemies, Teyla gave an Athosian curse as her riffle clicked empty, was going to have to go hand to hand with the Wraith leaping for her had John not shot it with his .45. "Reloading!" she called out and Sheppard ordered, "Get behind me!" She retreated back into the corner they were trapped in to find another magazine and slap it into place.

Ronon was taking out the Wraith waking above even as he was trying to get to John and Teyla, gave one Marine a not so tactful shove aside only to be blocked by another. Each soldier was frantically filling the walls and any Wraith that lumbered in their way with bullets. Ronon felt miffed that both Marines were only worried about their own hides, hadn't once taken out one of the Wraith targeting their commanding officer, who was holding back waves of Wraith from two directions! '_John, I knew these jerks wouldn't have your back!_' but he didn't feel very vindicated only worried that he wouldn't reach his friends when they needed him.

It took Teyla mere moments to reload but it was enough time for disaster to strike.

Sheppard was holding his own by the skin of his teeth, Wraith dropping at his feet with his bullets in them but he knew his .45 was on its last three rounds even though he was being thrifty enough to go one bullet per Wraith, all headshots. That was when his spidey senses gave that jolt down his spine, had him spare a quick glace up and see a Wraith perched on its cocoon, its predatory gaze decidedly sighted on him. Then the Wraith gave a creepy yell and jumped off heading right for him. But John couldn't target him, had to take on the immediate immediate threats first, namely the four Wraith coming at him at once from the right, seconds away from touching him, reaching his gun, his arm, his chest where they'd love to get a good feeding from. Not to mention, if he let those four get by him, they'd go for Teyla who hadn't finished reloading.

Wishing he could at least back up a step, make himself a moving target, he gritted his teeth and didn't move, focused on holding back the Wraith from getting to Teyla from both directions. He braced for impact as the Wraith was about on him. Suddenly two of the Wraith trying to overtake his position dropped and Donecker stepped over them and purposefully dodged between his commanding officer and the Wraith dropping down on him. Donecker fired one shot into the Wraith then it was slamming into the Marine, driving him to the ground and in the close quarters, he domino'd into Sheppard, pinning the colonel under his weight as well the Wraith's.

His head having connected viciously with the floor when he got plowed into, John was stunned a moment, came back to himself in time to lift his rifle an inch off the ground and take out the three Wraith almost upon Teyla. Clicking in the new ammo magazine, she began opening fire on the Wraith nearest her position. With Teyla back in action, John turned his attention to his own problems, namely getting squished under dead weight. But that wasn't right. He raised his head, trying to peer into Donecker's face, praying that he was only unconscious, but then the mortally wounded Wraith on top of Donecker was stirring. John raised his .45 to finish it off but his gun clicked empty and his left arm was pinned, he couldn't angle the rifle up to hit the Wraith.

The Wraith didn't waste time then, sprayed his hand against Donecker's chest and the Marine came to with a scream of pain as his life force was being snatched away to heal the Wraith. "NO!" John shouted, forced to watch the grim spectacle, Donecker's black hair turning grey as John struggled to flip the Marine and Wraith off him, to get to his knife in his boot, even to find Donecker's weapons…but the man was a lefty and John's left arm wasn't making any progress getting free.

Finally Donecker's gun erupted…three times, the bullet impacting with the Wraith. Then Donecker was weakly shoving the Wraith off him, was struggling to get up off his commanding officer, get back into the fight. But clawed hands suddenly grabbed his ankle and pulled him off Sheppard, in horror he saw that it was one of the wounded Wraith lying down in the corridor that was pulling him toward him, wanting to get rejuvenated by his life. But a hand, a human one, caught him around the chest in a bear hug, trying to pull him back, then Sheppard was vowing in his ear, "I've got you!"

But another hand seized onto Donecker's leg around his knee and the Marine knew in the tug of war who would win. Tilting his head back he looked at Colonel Sheppard, dared to give his commanding officer an order, "Let me go, sir! Or they'll get you too!"

"I'm not letting you go!" John gritted out, tightening his grip on his junior officer even as he felt himself yanked forward, sliding toward the corridor teaming with hungry Wraith. He tried to dig his feet in but the floor was slick with Wraith blood and guts. He barely heard Donecker's "Sorry sir" before pain sliced along his forearm, causing him to loosen his one armed grip on the Marine. In that second's lapse, Donecker was gone, out of his reach…and being yanked down the corridor to become food for the wounded and awakening wraith.

"No!" John screamed, lumbering to his feet, ready to dive into the horde of Wraith to retreat his subordinate who had saved his life. But an arm caught him around his waist, stopped his suicidal rescue attempt and he felt himself pulled against Ronon's chest as the man yelled, "He's gone! He's gone, Sheppard!"

John knew he was right but it took another beat before he swallowed down the fury, the heartbreak and got his head back into the battle. "Are Rodney and Ingram clear of this place?"

"Yeah," Ronon replied, shooting Wraith with one hand and still using the other arm to hold onto Sheppard, didn't want his friend to make another ill-fated attempt to save the Marine.

"Then let's get the hell out of here," John grimly decreed as he reloaded his .45. Ronon released him but the Satedan remained right there at his back and John knew the man wasn't leaving his side until they were through this. Raising his voice he ordered, "Yoder, you're on point. I'll bring up the rear. Just concentrate on taking out whatever's between us and the way out. Let's move!" He waved Teyla by him to follow the Marines and took up the last stand position against the Wraith still coming down the corridor.

As the Marines managed to shoot their way out of the corridor and enter the main room, lights were starting to come on in those cocoons. "Sir, more are waking!" Vanson shouted, just wanted the nightmare to end, not escalate.

Using rifle fire to cut down the Wraith following him, greedily reaching for him as he walked backwards, Sheppard called over his shoulder, "Let's not wait around to greet them. Move it Vanson!" The progress was slow for Sheppard as he tried to not trip on the dead Wraith littering the ground in the corridor he was negotiating backwards. Stepping on an arm, he stumbled but Ronon was there to steady him, yank him to the right to skirt around more carnage on the floor.

"Few more steps and we'll be in the main room," Ronon reassured.

"Trouble is, so will they!" John said, yanked his chin toward the Wraith stepping over their downed comrades, teaming forward like ants no matter how many John killed. And when they reached the main room, they would no longer be in a kill zone, would spread out, maybe out flank him and his team.

"Grenade?!" Ronon suggested, his back to John's, blasting away Wraith as they dropped from above just like Teyla was doing in front of him. The two marines were in the main room impatiently waiting for their teammates to catch up to them as they wearily watched shadows moving behind the lighted cocoons.

To Ronon's suggestion, John countered, "Can't. Might set off the charges we set and blow us all to kingdom come! I think we just have to do the undignified 'run for our lives' thing. Again."

"Has a habit of working," Ronon loyally supported with a smirk in his tone.

"Let's hope it does this time," John mumbled then raised his voice, "Vanson, Yoder, when I step into the main room, take off running and don't look back until you're outside with Ingram, got it!"

There were two sharp, "Yes sirs" of nearly exultant agreement to do just that.

"Teyla, I need your help to take down some of the Wraith then follow them. Ronon you follow her and I'll be right behind you." Then John's boots crossed the threshold of the main room. He didn't bother shouting anything lame like "go", already knew the Marines were doing Mach one through the ship, running for the exit. Teyla came to his right while Ronon came to his left and they rained down lead on the Wraith in the corroder, thinning their numbers with brutality. When there was a fair mountain of bodies so the next wave of Wraith had to climb over to move forward, John ordered, "Teyla, go!" He took a step to the right, taking up her absence as she followed the Marine's exit strategy. Then with even more Wraith dead at their feet, he shouted above Ronon's gunfire and his own, "Ronon now!"

"I'll leave when you do!" Ronon stubbornly responded, not moving a muscle to leave John.

John wished he could take the time to drill Ronon with a killer glare or at the very least shove the tall guy toward the exit. Instead all he had was his words. "This isn't about loyalty, this is about orders! Mine! Now go!"

"We're going together or we're both staying. Your decision," Ronon calmly decreed like they weren't seconds away from being Wraith battery chargers.

"Fine! Be that way! We go on three…no five," John submitted, knew he'd have better chances wining an argument with the Wraith to not feed on him than for Ronon to leave solo right then. He started the countdown. "One…two…three…four….five!" Then in synch they turned and ran through the main room, thundered into the corridor heading toward the exit, all the while hearing Wraith movement behind them, gaining ground, thudding into the walls of the corridor. One caught John's jacket and he spun around, dropped five with rifle fire while running backwards. Felt demoralized that so many were still coming, were so close to overtaking him, and consequently Ronon. But worse news, the newly awakened Wraith were almost clear of the ship. If they made it out, they would scatter, and unless he wanted to nuke the planet, which the villagers totally wouldn't like, he had to contain them here or he'd let them loose in the world. He couldn't let that happen, he _wouldn't._

So turning around he poured on the power, having fallen thirty paces behind Ronon. Then he saw the light, knew they were almost clear. "Ingram blow it! Now!" Trusted Ronon's long legs to get him far enough away from the blast to survive. His own chances…it didn't matter.

Hearing Sheppard's command, Ingram cheerlessly toggled on the primer switch then reached down for the trigger device, but a hand grabbed his wrist, stopped him. He was surprised to find it was Dr. McKay.

"They aren't out yet! Ronon or Sheppard!" Rodney shouted in panicked incredulousness, wouldn't allow this robot to blindly follow Sheppard's orders and carelessly doom his friends.

"I have my orders doctor!" and Ingram shoved McKay back, reached for the trigger and pressed the button even as Ronon come streaking out of the ship. But there was no sighting of Sheppard. The explosions shook the ground as they ripped through the ship. Tunnels of fire erupted from the vessel all across mid ship and forward then the ship started to cave in on itself from front to back, heading fast toward the exit Sheppard had yet to come through.

"Sheppard," Rodney stammered in dread as his friend had yet to make another one of his miraculous escapes. He had just enough time to let the belief that Sheppard hadn't made it hit him hard when the Colonel bolted out of the ship like …well, like a pack of hungry Wraith were on his tail, which they were. "Wraith!" Rodney screamed unnecessarily pointing, needed someone to stop them from reaching Sheppard. But then the ship ignited into a fiery explosion worthy of the Hindenburg blimp.

The Wraith chasing Sheppard couldn't run fast enough to escape the fallout, got peppered with burning ship goo, caught on fire and went up in flames. Then the shockwave of concussion and heat bowled over Sheppard, Ronon, Teyla, Vanson and Yoder, almost had the intensity and staying power to topple over the group overlooking the carnage on the hill.

At the, albeit weakened, onslaught, Rodney stumbled backwards, nearly lost his own footing as he choked on the heat hitting him. A beat later, he was running, not for safety but down the hill, toward his teammates. Dodging around small fires of gooey ship parts burning on the ground, he saw in relief that Teyla was already moving, called out a "You ok?" to which she gave a nod so he bypassed her, went to Ronon. Crouched beside the face down Satedean, Rodney shook his shoulder, "Ronon! Hey! Wake up!"

Ronon growled low in his throat, shook his maned hair then looked up at Rodney. "Sheppard? He make it out?"

"Yeah," Rodney replied in the relieved affirmative but then his eyes went to the Colonel's unmoving form, noticed his location was entirely too close to the ship…and, more alarming, he seemed to be surrounded by fire. "Oh crap!" Rodney exclaimed shooting to his feet and running for John.

Fearlessly leaping over the fire that ringed John, Rodney reached his friend and noted in horror that the back of John's left leg was on fire. Dropping to his knees, he frantically shoveled sand onto John's leg, didn't stop until the fire was smothered out and John looked like he was on a beach retreat and volunteered to get buried from the waist down. Gulping in a semi relieved breath that one calamity was over, Rodney braced himself for the next round of 'that's good news, that's bad news.'

Good news was, Sheppard wasn't on fire anymore. Bad news was, he wasn't moving. At all.

Putting his hands under John's right shoulder and at his waist, Rodney gently rolled his best friend over, felt his gut flip in dread when that still didn't get Sheppard awake, smirking and offering up some laid back remark about close escapes. Instead John's head limply rolled left onto the sandy ground, his legs tangled up over each other and his arms flopped to the ground, all of it wholly too lifelessly for Rodney's mental and emotional stability.

With a right hand that trembled, Rodney reached out, pressed his fingers against John's neck…and bowed his head, let out a profound "Thank God" because a pulse was thudding under his finger pads. One more hurdle crossed, a million to go, he raised his gaze again to Sheppard's slack features, beckoned insistently then worriedly, "Sheppard? Sheppard!" When that didn't garner a reaction, Rodney's relief again crumbled to all out anxiety. Cupping John's slack face with his hand, he entreated with a crack in his tone, "John? You can go ahead and wake up now. Please." Looked up as a Ronon sized shadow fell over him and Sheppard, "He's out cold, won't wake up," he voiced the obvious to Ronon like he expected the Satedan to fix it, desperately wanted someone to.

Ronon crouched down at John's head, put a big hand on the top of his friend's spikey hair with remarkably gentleness and peered down at John's face, now sprinkled with sand. "Sheppard, can you hear me, buddy?" The endearment coming out without thought, was still how he felt toward John regardless of their recent spats.

John felt disconnected to his own body, like the brief sensation of increasing heat on his leg was more dream than reality, just like the coolness that smothered it a few minutes later was. Even when he realized that he was being rolled over, his arms and legs seemed incased in cement, wouldn't move of his accord. Then they were fingers pressing against his carotid artery, their presence gone a few moments later only for another touch to follow of a hand gently laid against his cheek. And words…muffled…like he was underwater…or permanently deafened by their recent close quarters gunfire topped off by an explosion practically on top of him.

Another hand came to rest on the top of his head, bringing to memory his little brother's hand landing there in sleep when they had to bunk together in some hotel room or when they tent camped in their back forty. Dave had always claimed it was unintentional but John suspected it was his little brother grounding himself by his big brother's presence. A flicker of loss echoed through John even as some other emotion crowded in: a sense of security that he wasn't alone. That this touch, like the one on his face, were not meant to steal strength from him but lend it.

It gave him the fortitude to claw his way out of the void, to force open his heavy eyelids, come back to the here and now. His first sight was of the worried faces of Rodney and Ronon peering down at him, Ronon from his position at his head and Rodney by his side. Then his brain kicked in, reminded him there was danger and an urgency to every second that ticked by. Abruptly sitting up with two sets of hands helping him, he bit down the bone deep body aches and stabbing pain in his head and focused on the ship…well what was left of it. The flames were devouring the crumbled skeletal of the organic vessel and hopefully any Wraith still breathing inside. "The tech?" he hoarsely croaked out to Rodney, eyes transfixed on the flames.

"All accounted for," Rodney reported, jerking his head to somewhere behind John. Tentatively, he released his grip on John's arm, trusted Ronon to keep John upright from his position behind John, one of his large hands cinched around John's arm while the other braced the Colonel's back.

McKay's words repeated in John's head: _all accounted for_. Except for Donecker. One loss was too much, especially when it could have been avoided. If the kid would have retreated when he ordered him too, if they had moved faster before so many Wraith woke up, if the kid hadn't jumped in front of that Wraith to save him. '_I knew he was an adrenaline junkie and I dragged him into a kill zone. Steller work, John. Instead of reassigning him, you signed his death warrant.'_

Trying to stand, he was again aided by two well-meaning sets of hands but he jerked out of all of them, did a stumble listing stance but managed to keep his feet. "Let's get out of here." Then he nodded to Rodney who opened a channel with Atlantis and requested a jumper to take them and their loot home.

The mission was a success, they had achieved their objective. But in the Pegasus galaxy, every single victory seemed to come at a high cost lately. John just didn't know how long he could bear to continue to pay it in blood that wasn't his.

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TBC

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Love to all my wonderful reviewers and my silent readers!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	6. Aspirations & Intercessions

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

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CHAPTER 6: Aspirations & Intercessions

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Though Sheppard had jerked out of his grip, rejected his help keeping his footing, Ronon remained close, did that silent protective posture at John's shoulder as they started to make their way up to where Ingram and the Wraith tech was waiting for the pickup. He grabbed John by the elbow to steady him when the man lost traction on his ascent up the sandy incline, gave him a pull up to make it past the loose depression in the sand to firmer ground. But he didn't press his luck, released John as soon as the man again had sure footing. Noted that Rodney was trailing them but he wasn't fooled by the man's position directly behind Sheppard, knew it wasn't an arbitrary location, that he was there so he could catch Sheppard in case he faltered on the climb. Saw that McKay was only now slowly lowering his hands that had been raised to catch Sheppard when he slid in the sand. Seeing Teyla's approach, Ronon hoped John would accept her help, help that he was resentful of taking from him.

Joining her team on their trek up the incline from the left, she fell into step with John, gave him an assessing look. "How badly hurt are you, John?" She had helplessly watched in terror when John had been on the ground, pinned by Donecker and the Wraith's form. Saw his desperation to save Donecker, thanked the Ancestors that Ronon had been there, physically stopping John from an ill-fated rescue attempt of the Marine. Not to mention, John had been dangerously close to the ship when it exploded. She had watched worriedly when it took a while for Ronon and Rodney to get John on his feet.

Keeping his eyes on the goal ahead, John tightly answered, "I'm fine."

Behind him, Rodney snorted, challenged with derision, "Fine, is that right!? Your leg was on _fire_! You were unconscious and wouldn't wake up and oh, yeah, you're bleeding?!"

Stunned at the last in Rodney's list, John dazedly asked, "I am?"

"Your arm," Ronon supplied, lightly tapping John's right forearm just above where blood was welling through the uniform's sleeve.

"What!? Did a wraith clamp onto your arm…draw blood?! It wasn't…it couldn't….what happened with Ellia couldn't…." Rodney stammered in all out fear of John again being converted to a disturbing mix of Iratus bug and Wraith.

Remembering the moment when he had felt a sting of pain in his arm, John clenched his jaw a moment before he addressed Rodney's concern. "Wasn't a Wraith. Was Donecker…he …he cut me."

"Donecker?! One of your Marines?! What possessed him to attack you?!" Rodney incredulously asked, missed the looks of Ronon and Teyla trying to wave him off that topic.

"He did it to save Sheppard's life," Ronon answered so John wouldn't have to.

"Oh…well…then small price to pay for a good outcome, right?" Rodney tried to put a positive spin on it, not privy to the cost of that conclusion.

"Rodney, he's…" Teyla tried to gently intervene but John cut across her explanation, "Donecker's dead, Rodney."

Rodney gave an apologetic, "Oh" in reply, wished he hadn't stuck his foot in his mouth like usual, wished instead he had said something to cheer John up because the man looked down right hopeless.

Apparently sensing what Rodney did in Sheppard, Teyla tried to console him. "John, Sgt. Donecker lost his life in the performance of his duty. He would not want you to feel guilty for that."

John sent a heated glare to Teyla at her implication that dying in his place was Donecker's duty when it wasn't, any more than it should have been Elizabeth's. "What he did wasn't his _duty_," he snapped.

"Maybe not," Ronon conceded, didn't care that Teyla shot him a displeased look. A beat later, he concluded, "But it was his _honor_ to save your life." Had seen the whole thing, had been frantically trying to reach John, to do what Donecker did, however too many Wraith blocked his path. But he had seen Donecker cut down the Wraith attacking John, saw him step between John and the Wraith dropping onto their position. And he had heard Donecker implore Sheppard to let him go, used his knife to cut Sheppard's arm to break the Colonel's hold on him.

John stopped all forward motion and rounded on Ronon. "That wasn't _honorable_, that was wasteful and stupid! If he hadn't broken my hold…if you hadn't held me back…."

"You'd be dead along with him!" Ronon thundered back, refused to back down, to lie, to say he wasn't ok with this conclusion, of Sheppard being alive even though it cost a young Marine his life. "He made a **choice! **It was his decision, his last decision. He made it count and if you want me to argue it should be you dead instead of him….that's not going to happen." Having said his peace, Ronon stalked off, made short easy work of the climb up the hill to Ingram and the rest of their mission teammates.

In the wake of Ronon's words, John went silent and so did Teyla and Rodney, neither knowing what to say, if there was something they could say. It was hard watching the break between their leader and Ronon, harder still to know they could not take John's side in this particular argument. What Ronon said, they were both thinking it too. They were both willing to lose much to keep John with them. Even if being "with them" was the last thing John seemed to want.

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Colonel Carter greeted them in the jumper bay but before she could ask for a sitrep, John provided one as he emerged first out of the jumper. "Colonel, we got the Wraith tech but we lost Sgt. Donecker. If you want to write it up that his death was due to my incompetency, go right ahead," he bit out before he walked away, left a stunned Carter and three troubled ex-teammates behind.

Before she could either be angry at Sheppard's insolence of just walking away or surprised at his offering to take the blame for the lost Sergeant without her prompting, the man was out of the hangar bay. His ex-teammates seemed intent on following his lead until she stepped into their path. "I want a debriefing in the main conference.." when all three seemed ready to protest she sharply stipulated, "Now."

Ronon still dared oppose her ruling. "But Sheppard's…" he gutturally growled, wanted to point out that Sheppard was hurt, needed herded to medical because he doubted the man would voluntarily go on his own, didn't normally, certainly wouldn't in the mood he was in.

Seeing that Ronon's eyes were fixed on the door where his ex-team leader had vanished instead of on his superior commanding officer, Sam stepped into Ronon's personal space, tried to pretend it didn't matter just how far she had to tilt her head up to meet Ronon's heated gaze. "And I said you're debriefing with me now." Tacked on, "Sheppard will debrief me separately," as if it was by her decree and not Sheppard's total disregard for her rank that was delaying the Colonel's debriefing.

Ronon didn't seem to be in the mood to backdown and she wondered how she'd wrangle him under her control if he pushed it, but then she noted movement, saw Teyla wrap her hand around Ronon's muscular bicep and it was the Athosian who broke the tension. "Yes, Colonel, we will gladly give our debrief now," speaking for her group of three. And after a beat, Ronon broke their standoff by taking a step back from Sam, shooting Teyla a pissed but accepting look.

Sam gave a curt nod and strode out, trusted they would follow. And they were, but slowly, each glancing down the hallway where the nearest transporter was to the hangar bar, each aching to track down John with nearly every fiber in their being. But didn't, wouldn't, and not just because military protocol demanded they concede to the highest ranking officer's orders but more because, John wouldn't welcome their company. That trying to strong arm him to go to medical, it might break the last tendril of the bonds that still tethered them together. And cowardly, even for John's own wellbeing, they weren't willing to risk that, to set everything on fire that was already smoldering, ready to consume them all with one final spark.

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Away from too observant eyes, John faltered as he stepped out of the tranporter, flung a hand out to the wall to keep upright as his left leg pulsed with pain and his head pounded. Hating that he couldn't push past the pain any longer, he rested his head against the wall, mentally tracked how many steps until he reached his room. Came up with an answer of…. too freaking many. Good news was, the hallway was empty, weren't any witnesses to his weakness. Now he just had to stamp down the pain in his leg from the burn, ignore his raging headache and move forward. And not think of Donecker, of Elizabeth, of leaving them both behind…to save himself.

Telling himself he'd move in a minute, just had to give himself a little rest, he closed his eyes and tried to take some deep breaths, do that mind over body thing. Wasn't expecting Radek's accented voice to suddenly be chirping in his ear. "Colonel Sheppard, are you alright?!" which had him jerking his head up and nearly losing this breakfast at the stabbing pain that resulted in the too fast head motion.

Shifting his head marginally in a nod of affirmative so he didn't have to risk opening his mouth seemed the safest bet but it didn't sooth the Czech. "You do not look well, Colonel." Then taking in Sheppard's full appearance, the paleness of his features, the bloody sleeve, the sand sticking to his uniform and glistering on his cheek. "You must have gotten turned around trying to get to the Infirmary. I'll help you…"

"I didn't get _turned around_," John managed to indignantly growl out, brushing off the hand Radek put on his shoulder. Pushing off the wall, he stayed upright on his own and started putting one foot in front of the other, assuring himself that he was making slow but determined progress to his room.

At his back, Radek said a few grumbled words in Czech that John knew weren't complimentary because he'd heard them before…when Zelenka was ticked off at McKay. "No wonder you and McKay are friends! Both of you act like getting help insults your ego!" he called after the stubborn soldier who didn't give a verbal come back. Radek watched as the Colonel had to put a hand on the wall every few steps to ensure he kept upright, and he was limping, favoring his left leg.

Normally Radek knew who to call when he was worried about the Colonel but the way things were between McKay and Sheppard….he couldn't call Rodney. No, and he couldn't expect better results if he notified Teyla and especially not Ronon, he had heard about the row between the two soldiers at the mess hall. And since Elizabeth was no longer with them...walking the opposite way of the Colonel he waited until he was out of ear shot before he tapped his radio. "Major Lorne, I need your help."

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The debriefing went by the numbers. Each of Sheppard's ex-teammates and Ingram gave concise answers to her questions. Ronon said little, gave a recap of taking on a whole horde of waking Wraith using the fewest words possible which was why she was surprised he remained behind after she called the debriefing to a close. "Something on your mind, Specialist Dex?"

Ronon nodded, watched as Teyla shot him an uncertain look as she left, as if she thought he would do something that would hurt them, hurt John. But he meant to the do the opposite, wanted to defend Sheppard to Carter. Realized that Sheppard's gruff attitude toward Carter in the hangar bay, it wasn't the first tension he'd witnessed between the Colonel and Lt. Colonel. He had been so consumed with John's rejection of him, he hadn't put together that Sheppard's irritated departing retort in the mess hall, they had been directed at Carter. "_Yeah, I'd hate to screw up anyone's __peaceful meal__," _and a hidden meaning was in there, Ronon suspected that now.

And it troubled him, the undercurrents between John and his superior, and more importantly Carter was the leader of Atlantis, had Sheppard's career in her hands…and more importantly, his _life_. Her decisions, they could get Sheppard killed. He had learned that hard truth with his Satedan leaders. That if you were in contention with them…your life was less valued to them, meant you might get tapped for high risk missions just so they could get you out of their hair.

He wasn't accusing Carter of such maliciousness, trusted his instincts enough to sense evil intent if it existed. And moreover, John hadn't bulked at any of her orders, trusted her strategic decisions and that was more than good enough for Ronon. No, it was the fear that Carter was misjudging Sheppard's leadership ability that had Ronon ready to speak up on his friend's behalf. _'I won't let my stupid decisions and my temper sabotage Sheppard's career.'_

Having never seen the tall Satedan looking so meek, Carter suggested with a warm smile, "Let's do this in my office." Leaving the conference room she headed to her office, felt Ronon's presence at her back and wondered where this meeting was about to go. Claiming a seat behind her desk, she waved for Dex to take a seat but he declined with a shake of his head. Then he almost nervously shifted on his feet, was so unlike the raging ball of energy and intimation she knew him to be that it took her a moment to not be unnerved by it.

"What did you wish to speak to me about Specialist Dex?" though she was starting to form up ideas in her head, maybe he would try and get his new team better missions, maybe garner an American military rank for himself. Becoming an equal with Major Lorne could be on his scope. Surely he would want to do what was best to keep his new gate team intact, ensure that she did not take away what he'd finally achieved after being on Atlantis for two years.

"I want you to know it wasn't Colonel Sheppard's fault. What happened to Sgt. Donecker. Our position was overrun and Sheppard would have given his life to save Donecker." His hands fisted at his side, remembered holding John back…like he had pulled the man away when Elizabeth made her last stand, gave them time to get away.

"Teyla said as much in the debriefing," Sam replied a little disappointed he wanted to only rehash what she already knew. Hoped to get some insight into the man, what he wanted, what she could provide to him in exchange for his loyalty to her.

Since Carter seemed to accept that Sheppard wasn't to blame for the loss of Donecker, Ronon knew he had to tread on personal matters, didn't want Sheppard to suffer for being loyal to him. "In the mess hall, when you broke us up, I started that fight, not Sheppard. I lost my temper. And what happened in the hive ship with Tyre and my Satedan…_friends_," the word hurt to say but he pressed on, "…that was my fault. I never saw the betrayal coming, was too blinded by the past. Sheppard being there with me…with them, involving Atlantis, he did it out of loyalty to me but how it turned out, that is on me, was my bad judgement, not Sheppard's. You can't hold that against him," Ronon insisted even as he knew she could do anything she wanted to, just hoped she didn't, had the good heart that Dr. Weir did.

Blindsided by Ronon's groveling…not for leniency for himself but for John Sheppard, Sam didn't know how to respond. Finally decided to rest back on a wholly military comeback, she responded with, "Colonel Sheppard's rank means he's held to a higher degree of responsibility for his actions." She fought back retreating back in her chair when Ronon advanced on her, leaned over her desk, his eyes blazing with indignation.

"You want to punish anyone, you punish **me**. I trusted my old Satedan team and they betrayed us, nearly got Sheppard, Teyla and McKay _killed,_" and there was a hairline crack in his tone on that last word, like the implications, the could have beens, were still hitting him hard.

But Sam refused to give ground. "In the end, it was Lt. Colonel Sheppard's command decision to trust the Satedans, to green light the mission." Never expected her first official mission on Atlantis would be rescuing Sheppard's gate team, who were famed for their miraculous escapes from doom. So much for their overblown reputation.

"He went because he trusted me! Not because he trusted them!" Ronon growled, hated that Sheppard's devotion to him was giving Colonel Carter a bad impression of the soldier, the leader John was.

"His decision still put Atlantis in jeopardy as well as almost changed the Replicator's war back on us instead of the Wraith had McKay been forced to reprogram them. Unlike your decisions Specialist Dex, Lt. Colonel Sheppard's decisions have far reaching consequences. Luckily for him, I chose to not focus on the 'could have beens' but the 'all's well that ends well' approach." But she felt a little pink of shame creep onto her cheeks at that statement because she had played around with the idea of throwing Sheppard under the bus, of running to the IOA about his bad judgment on his first mission under her command. But she hadn't. Sadly, not entirely out of a code of fair play but maybe more because of advice Jack O'Neil had given her.

SGATSGATSGAT _**One Month Prior**_ SGATSGATSGAT

"Don't let Sheppard's laid back façade fool ya. He's cunning and wily and stupidly reckless and a top notch strategist and there's a brain behind all that puffy hair," Jack warned her over dinner as she was mentally psyching herself up about leading Atlantis.

"Aw..sounds like someone's a fan boy," she teased, wasn't used to Jack being so forthcoming with the compliments.

Jack gave her his trademark cringing smirk. "Kind of have to be when he saved my butt not once but twice."

But she sought to get to the heart of his words, wanted all the advice he could give her on her first command position. "So are you warning me about him because he's a threat to my authority?"

Jack chomped on his steak a minute in contemplation, like he was searching for the right wording. Since Jack usually wasn't that choosy with his opinions, she realized he was trying to be gentle with her when he final spoke. "What I'm saying is…the Atlantis expedition loved Dr. Weir but…. when the crap hit the fan, if it came down to the personnel of Atlantis trusting her instincts or John Sheppard's …."

"They would have trusted Sheppard," a bite to her conclusion.

(So maybe that was the heart of this, that she was resentful that she knew she didn't have a chance in hell if she and Sheppard drew the line in the sand and asked the Atlantis team to choose a side. She had lost before the match even began. And she had totally thrown away Jack's next advice.)

"So what I'm saying is…work together with Sheppard and the Wraith won't know what hit them." (That too was a mortal wound, that even Jack didn't have faith in her to run Atlantis without Sheppard, thought that she _needed_ Sheppard, couldn't be successful against the Wraith without the heroic, smart mouthed Lt. Colonel's condensing helping hand.)

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So yeah, that had her saving instead of sending her report to the IOA highlighting Sheppard's bad judgement. But she kept that 2nd version of her mission report on hand, planned to use it if she needed the ax to fall but that wasn't yet, wasn't now.

Coming back to the present, Sam realized that Ronon had walked to her office wall that overlooked the Gate. His hands were so tightly fisted she expected blood to start dripping soon. Coming to stand beside him, she watched him instead of the bustle of the gateroom. Now more than ever, she was confused by the man. "For someone who you just defended so strongly, you seemed pretty furious with Colonel Sheppard in the mess hall." An unspoken question in the words but she didn't hold her breath he would open up to her. That didn't seem his style.

Eyes still on the stargate, Ronon didn't mince words, "I am pissed at him."

"If you don't like the personnel he gave you on your gate team, I can revise it. I do have veto power, you know," trying for a pleasing light tone to bring Ronon to her side, testing the waters.

Ronon abandoned his gaze at the gate, turned and gave her a strange look. "He let me chose my teammates."

"Oh, well…whatever disagreement you have with him, maybe I can do something about it." Knew it was kind of low agreeing to undercut Sheppard's approval but she needed Ronon's loyalty now that it was open for grabs. Had decided to start her campaign to win over Atlantis' loyalty, had to do it first with the members of the Atlantis expedition that the community respected most and that was John's former gate team.

Ronon gave her a bittersweet mockery of a grin and shook his head. "I broke the trust he had in me. Can you fix that?" And with that heartrending rhetorical question, the tall fierce Satedan walked out of her office, left behind a stunned, reeling Sam Carter. Ronon was pissed and _hurt _because he thought Sheppard didn't trust him anymore. Crap! Sheppard had practically jumped down her throat when he thought she meant to impugn Ronon's reputation, dared to question Ronon's devotion to Atlantis. That wasn't the actions of a man who wasn't any longer loyal to the Satedan.

So Ronon wanted back what he'd never lost?! Question was, why was Sheppard letting him think he had lost his trust?!

And it came to her: '_Because I made him boot Ronon off his team, because he dismantled his team, because…he didn't tell them that was my idea, Ronon off John's team. Sheppard let them believe it was his idea._' Crap! Crap! Crap! She hadn't expected Sheppard to be loyal to her, to protect her from his team's hatred, to take the blame all on himself. And it would be…hatred, blame…if they knew, because, what she just heard from Ronon, that devotion, loyalty, wanting her to punish him not Sheppard, Ronon's last entreaty, that wasn't about "contentment" for finally getting his own team, that was broken heartedness at the loss of his old team, of Sheppard's team, of Sheppard's trust.

How had she read Ronon so wrong?! His intentions? His reactions?! And then again, why wasn't John Sheppard the bastard she needed him to be?! It was easy to be cutthroat when your adversary was but Sheppard…he had protected her, made sure he was viewed the villain, not her. How was she supposed to feel good about that, about wishing him gone, when he was being so blasted…honorable?!

Crap but she was starting to realize why Elizabeth Weir's reports stopped criticizing John Sheppard's actions and started commending them one quarter of the way through their first year solo on Atlantis: Because the man could win over a freaking Wraith with his darn honorable, charming, loyal ways. How did she think she'd have any luck pitting him as the bad guy just because he was in her way of being Atlantis's champion?!

Sadly, she was starting to think the only bad guy in this scenario…was her.

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Most days being Colonel Sheppard's XO was a dream come true. Sheppard would back him up 200%, Evan knew that if he got in the thick of it, Sheppard wouldn't rest until he rescued his butt. That if you needed to win a no-win-situation, Sheppard was your go-to guy.

But today wasn't going to be one of those charmed days, was going to be a rare day when he wondered what the heck had he signed on for because Sheppard was the most stubborn man he'd ever encountered. Got ideas in his head and refused to be dissuaded, ideas like inviting a guy who threatened his life to join his gate team a day later, sticking by McKay's side when he goes all Dr. No and blows up a solar system, pilots a freaking _asteroid_ to save one of his teammates. All lunatic ideas that Evan had no luck talking him out of doing.

And now Zelenka thought he could manhandle John Sheppard to the infirmary when he clearly didn't want to go. Crap but he wished he had Ronon's stun gun or one of the Wraith's, contemplated retreating until he was better armed when he stepped out of the transporter, turned the corner and found Sheppard hobbling forward, his shoulder pressed against the wall unknowingly smearing blood along the white surface.

'_I'm going to be owed hazard pay for this_,' he thought but his concern for his CO and friend had him jogging forward. Since he wasn't in the mood to get a punch to the face from a startled Sheppard, he called out in greeting, "Colonel," before he gained the man's side. Then he paced him, accepted Sheppard's non welcoming glare in silence.

"Let me guess, Radek dropped a dime on me," John put two and two together and got Lorne's presence.

"You know when his blood pressure's up, he can get as excitable as McKay." Radek had rambled on for two minutes before he came to the point that Sheppard was injured and instead of heading to the infirmary was making his feeble way to his room and he thought Lorne had to do something about it.

"That's a low blow, Major. Zelenka would curse you out in Czech for that insult," John replied, gave a weak smile at the image of Lorne taking a tongue lashing in a language he didn't know.

"Yeah, definitely," Evan good-naturedly agreed, trying to not go faster than Sheppard was like adopting a snail's pace. "Course he's a pussy cat compared to the lecture Dr. Beckett will rain down on me if I don't get you to the infirmary."

"Afraid of civilians now, Major?" John taunted, shot a mocking look to his second in command, hated that he erringly put too much pressure on his left leg in that moment of distraction and it faltered under him.

Evan latched onto Sheppard's arm to keep him from badly stumbling and didn't release his grip even when his CO straightened his stance. Instead he held John back from taking yet another step forward. "Sir, it's obvious that you're hurt. Need medical attention."

"I'm fine, just need a shower..." John refuted tried to pull his arm from Evan's grip but the Major wouldn't relinquish his hold, instead stepped right in front of John so they were toe to toe.

"That's nowhere near the truth, Colonel," Evan contradicted before he shoved his career aspirations out the window and got in Sheppard's face, growled, "I'm sick of being the good little XO and sitting back and letting you try your best to sabotage every good thing you have! Reassigning three Marines in one week has not won you any love from their ranks. I can tell there's contention between you and Colonel Carter. Then there's…"

Caught off guard by Evan's observation, John pressed, "What makes you say that? About Colonel Carter."

Evan sighed, took in a breath before diving into the dangerous waters. "You interact with her as little as possible, and after you do meet with her, you totally close down..well, worse than you have been."

Not wanting Lorne to damage his own career by being disrespectful of Carter, John sternly reprimanded, "Colonel Carter has more years in the Stargate Program than you and I combined. She's your superior and the expedition leader, Major."

"I'm well aware," Evan tightly conceded, none of that changed the fact that Sheppard didn't get along with her and that gave him serious reservations about trusting her, certainly liking her.

"Don't buck her command, Lorne. She's not Elizabeth," John cautioned earnestly, understood Carter enough to know she wouldn't tolerate that, like she was at the end of tolerating him and his attitude.

At John's rare mention of Weir, Evan dared to use her as leverage, but his tone was gentle. "Speaking of Dr. Weir…she'd kick your butt for not being in the infirmary right now. Would track you down herself to get you there." Saw John flinch at his words but he pressed on, "It'd be Ronon carting you off over his shoulder about now if you hadn't broken up your team, cut yourself off from them…heck, from everyone." John's jaw clenched and Evan knew he was on the verge of getting punched or demoted, maybe both but he couldn't stop now, dropped his voice to a concerned timbre as he said, "For the life of me, I can't figure out why you ripped your team apart and, worst of all, neither can they."

John gave a bittersweet smirk. "That's the privilege of rank: you don't have to justify your actions to your subordinates."

"How about to your friends, your family, who are all worried about you," he confessed, was done putting up the stoic military stance, pretending they …he didn't do some humanistic thing like worry for his friend's emotional wellbeing.

"There's no reason for _anyone _to worry about me," John angrily snapped back, didn't realize they all thought he was losing his crap, were talking about him behind his back, were taking bets if he was headed for a Section 8.

"Keeping everyone at a distance, pushing yourself 24/7, making an enemy out of Carter, playing Russian roulette with incompetent teammates on high risk missions. What part of that should we be ok with, sir?!" Evan charged, voice rising along with his blood pressure as his pent up concern came spilling out of him.

Fury building in his chest, John fought to keep it contained, warned in a lethal low tone, "Major, you are dangerously close to stepping over the line."

But Evan had decided this was his moment to try and break through John's barriers, regardless if it got him a one way trip back to Earth on the Daedalus. "Is that what Ronon did? Stepped over the line, betrayed your trust…hurt you and you've banished him, banished Teyla and McKay too so they couldn't do the damage Ronon did?!" Before John could explode at his accusations, Evan grabbed onto John's shoulders, jerked him to face him before bringing his point home. "John, Ronon would _die_ for you any day of the week…and you _know_ that."

"Die for me…just not stay with me, with Atlantis," John lobbed back at Evan's claim, felt the hurt searing across his soul again, like a reopened wound that everyone wanted to poke at again and again and again. "Like McKay refused to obey my orders to NOT put those freaking nanites in Elizabeth and Teyla expects me to be some saint who always takes the moral high ground instead of being what I am, a soldier, a leader who has to accept that the ends justifies the means." Didn't matter that the ends made him want to throw up, made it hard for him to look in the mirror: accepting the loss of those under his command for the sake of a mission's success, (Like Donecker today), preforming experiments like Michael, making unholy alliances in the hope that more lives could be spared down the road…letting Elizabeth sacrifice herself for him, for his team…for Atlantis's wellbeing.

As much as Evan heard the anger in John's voice, the hurt, he still wasn't convinced that he was at the heart of why John had walked away from his team, from the people who were family to him. "So they all let you down?! Now you can't trust them anymore?!" but there wasn't reproof in his tone but incredulousness. "Why don't I buy that?! Oh right…because you are the most forgiving, honorable man I've ever met." Sheppard had forgiven McKay for almost blowing him up with a solar system, had made it a bygone that one hour Ronon was tying him up, threatening to kill him and the next he's offering to take the Wraith tracker out of him and give him a place on Atlantis, not to mention he buddied up with a Wraith that fed on him to put together a jailbreak.

"Guess you don't know me as well as you think you do, Major," John challenged, part of him glad Evan suspected something was up, didn't write all this off as him just being an SOB and another part of him hoping the man didn't pass his theory around. Things were too far along, there were no do overs, no turning back time. (His Dad had taught him that, had refused every single effort he had made for a reconciliation, until John just gave up, accepted that they were through and cut ties.) Not to mention, John truly shouldn't _want _to undo what he'd done. Ronon, Teyla and McKay had been just fine in their new roles, safe, (minus Rodney's cut hand), until they teamed up with him today and nearly died following his orders, like they had a thousand times before.

But Evan shook his head, sadly denied John's claim that he didn't know him, "No, that's not it at all, John." Releasing his hold on John, he stepped back gave the man his space but offered, "When you're ready to talk I'm here…and so is your team. Heck, anyone on Atlantis would be there for you if you let them. You're not alone, Colonel. Even if you want to be."

Then Evan took another step back, glanced ahead and then turned on his heel and left his CO's side

Before John could feel vindicated or abandoned by the Major's withdrawal…he realized Evan had merely been the distraction. Carson and a nurse with a stretcher in tow turned the corner, were determinedly coming toward him.

He had gotten played, hard.

Going on the defensive, John pointed a menacing finger at the stern faced doctor's approach. "Don't overreact! I'm fine!"

"I determine whether you're bloody fine and even from here I can tell you're far from being bloody fine!" Carson railed at him. "Not to mention, Major Lorne then Rodney, then Teyla and then Ronon all called to tell me how unfine you were."

"Backstabbers," John grumbled under his breath, then Carson was there, and though John knew the doctor was mad at him, his touch was gentle as he lifted John's right arm, parted his sliced sleeve to see the cut underneath, which was bleeding again probably thanks to him stumbling hard into the wall with his right side ten steps ago.

Determining that he could wait to deal with the bleeding wound in the infirmary, Carson swung his attention up from the knife wound to the Colonel's pale but protesting features. Some of his irritation faded. The man was clearly in pain and he could do something about it, could force the Colonel yes, but he also wanted to give John the respect and the compassionate care he deserved. He gave a jerk of his head to his nurse, asking her to step away, let him have a private moment with the Colonel.

Instead of being mollified at the nurse's departure, John tensed, who knew what Carson would say now that they didn't have an audience to keep the Scot's anger in check. He in no way was prepared for Carson's next words to be consoling ones.

"I heard about Sgt. Donecker. I'm sorry, John." Though he did a good job of hiding it, Carson knew how hard Sheppard took the losses; the soldier had too big a heart not to.

Barely managing to not flinch at the utterance of the dead Marine's name, John nodded his head, took the condolences earnestly as they were meant. That was the thing with Carson, he cared. And wasn't too proud to show it. Carson had proven that in this same hallway yesterday when John's only injury was bloody knuckles. Still Carson had wanted to ease his miniscule pain…surely it was killing the doctor to watch him with true pain now and do nothing. '_Crap but every choice I made hurts someone_,' John bitterly realized.

Softly, Carson entreated, "You don't deserve to be in pain as some penance for his death, John."

John dropped his eyes, felt the burn of tears. How had Carson cut so close to the truth, to his need to be in pain, to not be just dandy when Donecker was freaking dead. '_Like I should be. The Wraith targeted __me__…Donecker got in his way, on purpose.'_

Taking advantage of John's distraction, Carson stepped closer, put a supportive hand around John's left elbow to help steady him since he was decidedly not putting much weight on his left leg. "I'm not going to leave you here in pain. We both know that. So how about we go to the infirmary?" John remained silent, his head bowed and Carson wanted to sigh, instead decided to go with one of Sheppard's tactics. "Tell you what, you be a good little patient now and I'll agree to go surfing with you on the mainland when you're all healed up."

That had John's head lifting, a slight twinkle of light coming on in his eyes, "Really?"

Carson smiled widely at having gotten John a toe out of his funk and unrepentantly confessed, "Heck no but I knew the mention of surfing would get your attention."

"No, no, no, you put a deal on the table," John protested with a hint of his usual lightheartedness.

"Up you go," Carson said, slipping his hands at John's waist and using his surprising strength to aid John's one legged hop onto the stretcher. Then he was waving his nurse back onto the scene before he put a hand behind John's neck and helped ease the man to lie down. "Careful lass of his left leg," he cautioned as she reached out to get John's legs unto the stretcher.

With Carson's warning, the nurse surmised that the Colonel meant a lot to Atlantis' chief physician, didn't rail at his seemingly lack of trust for to recognize the injury after her many years as a nurse. She'd seen it so many times when family members of medical personal were injured, that overprotectiveness. Had new insight to her new boss and the military commander of Atlantis….and she was impressed by it.

"I'm not a kid, don't need strapped in," John groused when Carson went all nine yards and began putting the straps around him to secure him to the stretcher.

"Ay, this is so you don't bolt on me," Carson teased, shamelessly cinching the strap in place.

"Why would I?" John innocently asked before his wolf's smile made an appearance. "We have a deal and I can't wait to finally have a wing man for surfing."

"No we certainly do not have a deal," Carson blustered as he began steering the stretcher bearing his friend toward the nearest transporter.

"No take backs, doc," John gloated, the thought of surfing was lifting his spirits. Knew it wouldn't solve anything but getting away, feeling free even if it was fleetingly from his life as he knew it now, that sounded pretty darn good about then.

"I agreed under duress, doesn't count," Carson recanted even as he was starting to concede to John's wishes because, anything that could put a smile on John's face, it was worth some broken bones… a downing, but hopefully not eaten by a sea animal though. Friendship had its limits…didn't it?! But a second later, he gave an answer: no, friendship didn't have its limits, especially if that friend was Sheppard. The man drew loyalty to him like an ant to sugar.

"It totally counts," John countered as he got pushed into the transporter then whoosh was getting pushed out, knew he was going for an overnight stay in the infirmary no matter what protests he made. And he dug deep and found one good thing about it: he could procrastinate everything he had planned to do today until tomorrow.

That meant Lt. Sebastian Tudor had one more day believing that his future was on Atlantis, didn't know a transfer form with his name on it was sitting on John's desk, that his career was about to take a decided turn and John was the instigator. '_Well, me and his aggression and his clumsiness_,' John amended. Having been a soldier who had gotten transferred to a crap hole like Antarctica, he knew there would be enough anger and regret to go around. Tudor could hate him and hate himself without running out of resentment for a very long time.

Today Donecker had died in his place, tomorrow he'd crush Tudor's advancement ambitions, maybe he could kick some puppies later in the week to keep up the momentum. Crap but tomorrow sucked already but what else was new since he'd lost his team. '_Not lost, let go, set free_,' he amended, and prayed to God "saved" was among that list.

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TBC

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Thanks for all your wonderful support for this story!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	7. Tell Me How You Really Feel

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

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CHAPTER 7: Tell Me How You Really Feel

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Though Dr. Beckett was the one who forbade her from visiting John in the infirmary, Teyla knew in her hearts of hearts that it was at John's request. That he didn't want to see her…on Ronon or Rodney either, as they too were turned away while she was still making her attempt to change Beckett's mind. But Beckett was unshakeable in his resolve. She forgave him even as she walked away, knew he thought adhering to John's wishes fell under his guardianship for his patients.

But John wasn't any patient, was Carson's friend.

But so was she…and that seemed to matter little to John. She had naively thought after the trauma of the battle in the ship that things could go back the way they were, that their survival against such odds proved all over again what a great team they made. John, however, didn't recognize that evidence, had shunned their concern, had sat in the forward compartment of the jumper instead of back with his team…any of his teammates, present or past.

Then there were his words to Colonel Carter, guilty confession of blame and disrespect for her ranking. John could be stubborn, could buck against authority, she had seen him do it with Dr. Weir but this was…different. With Elizabeth there had been…she couldn't place her finger on it but whatever it was, it didn't raise a distress in her like watching his interaction with Colonel Carter. Had watched the woman doing their debrief but she had given nothing away, had kept her answers very precise to the mission but he had seen her surprise when Ronon had asked to speak to her alone. A conversation she had felt alarmed at occurring, had shot a warning to Ronon to watch his words, but he had nodded to her, like he knew her silent warning. Even though she wondered at the contents of that conversation, Ronon was not sharing it with her, had not sought her afterwards nor had he stayed at the infirmary long after Beckett's refusal to let him visit John, had left before Rodney was done ranting about over blown egos of voodoo doctors who thought they got to dictate who got to visit who in their holier than thou kingdoms of medicine.

She was deep in thought when she turned the corner for her room, slowed to a surprised halt at seeing Colonel Carter evidently waiting for her return. "Colonel Carter, I am sorry, did I miss a call for a meeting. I did not know my radio was not working properly," touched her radio in her ear to check if it was receiving any transmissions.

Sam pulled on a smile she hoped was friendly, felt like she was out of practice at that gesture. "No, no meeting I just wished to speak to you privately."

"Oh," Teyla gave as a noncommittal reply, her stomach dropping at whatever this conversation would encompass. '_What worse thing can she do to me that has not already been done. My team is gone, John no longer wishes to have any contact with me, and all my efforts here to defend my home, my galaxy feel….….inconsequential.' _So there wasn't much the Colonel could do to hurt her worse than she was already hurting. "Yes, please come in," she bade a little stiffly as she entered the room, felt Carter following in her wake.

Sam noted the "hominess" of Teyla's room. The personal items that bespoke of her connection to her people…and to Atlantis, for on her table was a picture of her team, all smiles. She didn't miss that it was turned so Teyla could see the picture when she woke up every morning. A reason to get out of bed, to believe it could be a good day.

Picking up the picture, Sam hoped to get a reaction, did before she even asked her question as Telya tensed, like she feared Sam would steal the picture from her. '_Like I stole her team from her_,' came unbidden and she stamped it down. Aloud she asked, "Didn't know Rodney McKay had a happy smile in him that didn't involve him bragging himself up," she joked, intentionally reminding Teyla that she was familiar with McKay, knew him long before Teyla even knew Earth existed.

But Teyla's next words proved Sam might be "familiar" with McKay but she didn't know _Rodney _at all. "Rodney insisted we take a group picture so he could send it to his sister. He wanted her to have something to put in her "scrap book" that was not classified about her time on Atlantis. John said it should just be Rodney's picture but Rodney wanted it to be all of us. Then he gave us each copies." And there was genuine fondness in Teyla's eyes that ran soul deep as she carefully took the picture from Carter's hold and unconsciously held it against her chest, protecting it from further harm.

Sam prided herself on reading between the lines with people, ferreting out what they wouldn't admit to aloud but gave away by their words and actions. Though, right now, that pride was taking a ding after her chat with Ronon…and that had lead her here…to Sheppard's other teammate, to get better insight into the workings of the team she had had a hand in dismantling.

Truthfully, she didn't have a handle on Teyla. The woman was nothing but polite, carefully chosen words but there was an unapproachableness to her…well, had been since she was no longer on John Sheppard's team. On that first fateful mission where she rescued that team from Ronon's friends' betrayal, Sam had witnessed the care Teyla had for her teammates: the way she had tended to Ronon's wounds in the ride back to Atlantis, the worried look she gave Sheppard and Ronon, sensing the unrest there between the two men, the hurts she ached to heal.

But after her team's dissolution, Sam couldn't detect any emotion in her. The smiles she offered to her new teammates, lacked…something. Commitment, heart, maybe. And yes, her missions went off well but even in her reports, Teyla was careful in her dictation, was very clinical compared to the mission briefings she gave while in Sheppard's team, which spoke of concern for her teammates' wellbeing, the mission's success and the underlying pride in her team, even when the missions were unredeemable losses. (The same undertones that were present in Teyla's demeanor in their briefing hours ago about a mission where she was again surrounded by her former teammates, when their lives had been in severe danger as well as her own.)

After Ronon's ….wholehearted intercession for Sheppard, she couldn't stop wondering what the Lt. Colonel's other teammates really thought about the dissolution of their team. And sure, it wasn't her idea for Emmagon to be removed from Sheppard's team, but she knew it was a byproduct of her reassigning Dex. And she knew she selfishly was there hoping Teyla showed gratitude for being "liberated" from Sheppard's gate team, for finally being trusted to lead her own team, (quite a feat for a woman, Sam knew that firsthand) but deep down, Sam feared that, like Ronon, Teyla mourned the loss of her original gate team. Wondered if the Athosian woman would curse her for her hand in breaking apart that team.

"So how is your team working out? Any personnel changing you want to make?" Sam said, pretending to have not noticed her sentimentality for even the _picture_ of her former team.

"We are finding our rhythm," Teyla noncommittally answered, her stance tightening at the change of the subject.

"I've noticed your team has not needed to visit the infirmary like your prior team was famous for," trying to make light of it but Telya's face tightened into displeasure.

Seeing Carter's comment as a slight to John, Teyla tightly countered, "My current missions have not faced any dangers. Whereas the missions under Colonel Sheppard's were many first contacts and situations deemed high risk that Colonel Sheppard assigned himself to handle instead of any of his subordinates."

"And with that attitude, he dragged you into those confrontations with him, huh? Guess it was tough being on his team, being in danger nearly every mission. Must be a relief not being in the hot seat all the time." So yeah, she was prodding a little hard but she wanted a real reaction out of Teyla.

Teyla sat the picture on the table with a decisive clank and faced off with Colonel Carter wearing a look of barely checked restraint. "It was an honor serving on Colonel Sheppard's team. I would follow him into any danger and there is no one I would rather have at my side than him."

"Besides your own team.." Sam corrected, at Teyla's look of confusion she qualified, "No one you'd rather have at your side than Colonel Sheppard _besides_ your own team, the one you lead, the people that now follow you into any danger, certain you can see them through it."

But Teyla didn't get tripped up on Sam's attempt to skew her loyalty or guilt her into remembering her responsibility to her new team. "I did not follow Colonel Sheppard into danger because I was certain he would see me though it…I followed him because I was not going to let him face it alone, because he risked his life to save others, because his reasons were selfless and the right thing to do."

"So he's a saint," Sam mocked, a little sick of the Sheppard worship.

Teyla's smirk was nearly humorous, had affection glimmering in her eyes for the first time. "John would be the first to laugh at the notion."

"I see," Carter tightly returned, disappointed she wasn't getting the answers she wanted, well actually she was getting answers, she simply didn't like them. "I'll let you enjoy the rest of your day," she bluntly announced and turned to go.

"You have not spoken the questions you came here to ask me," Teyla challenged causing Colonel Carter to straighten her shoulders before turning around, facing the other woman who had lead her own people against the wraith for many years before Atlantis's team stepped through the stargate into her world. Not waiting for Carter to form the words, Teyla spoke them for her. "Am I happy to have my own team to lead? Do I miss being on Colonel Sheppard's gate team? Would I welcome the chance for things to go back the way they were? Do I think I am being punished along with Ronon for his decision to leave Atlantis?"

However, Teyla didn't answer any of her posed questions, held Carter's gaze, making her prod her for them. But Sam knew she had the answers to all of those questions already, skipped past them to the only conclusion that was viable. She tried to keep the irritation out of her tone as she acknowledged what Teyla wanted her to walk away knowing, "You want me to reinstate you to Colonel Sheppard's gate team."

Surprisingly, Teyla's expression showed pain, not triumphant as she contradicted Sam's statement, "No, I want John to _want_ me back on his team, for him to want Rodney back, for him to let Ronon back into his trust. Those are things you can't _order_ Colonel Sheppard to do. Trust, forgiveness, redemption must be willingly bestowed. You do not have in your power to give me what I want but…thank you, for coming here. For trying."

Numbly Sam nodded, couldn't get the confession by her constricted throat that she had done this, taken away what Teyla, what Ronon treasured most. She left keeping that secret even as she knew there was one more person she had to see, had to gather all the facts before she came to her scientific conclusion but this person she dreaded talking with the most. For as much as she thought she got Rodney McKay, she was starting to think she knew him as well as she thought she'd pegged John Sheppard. So…not at all.

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After Colonel Carter's departure, Teyla paced her room. Her confession to Carter shouldn't be hitting her so hard, she knew all along she wanted back on John's team. But saying it aloud, admitting her dissatisfaction, it was like accepting defeat. Then there was the fact that Carter couldn't order John to put their team together again, that John had to want that, to let down his walls again, yes, open himself up to hurt again after Ronon's almost departure wounded him, had him cutting himself off from all of them.

But she could do something, should do something. Should fight for what she valued so highly, needed so deeply: the return of her Atlantis family. Running her fingers over the picture of her team, her three brothers and her, she steeled herself to be brave. Vowed to find John in the morning no matter where he was and back him into a corner until he had to talk to her, had to listen to her, to know that, this was killing her, killing Ronon and Rodney, this shattering apart of their team. That she wanted him to fix it, like he had fixed so many of her hurts and Ronon and Rodney's by his friendship, by his loyalty, by his steadfast belief in them even when they doubted themselves. Now she needed to return the favor, prove that she, Rodney and, yes, Ronon, had faith in him, still, no matter the last few weeks of tension. That he might be doubting what he meant to them but they had no such uncertainties plaguing them about how they felt about their leader and friend.

It was time to stop letting John push her away, push those who cared about him away. She didn't fathom it would be an easy conversation but….here she smiled. John always was uncomfortable talking about feelings, reacted like a teenage boy whose mother was still demanding hugs in front of his friends. Evilly she thought about throwing a hug into the mix just to unbalance John more…would play dirty if it got him to do something other than adopt the soldier façade he never seemed to drop lately. She wanted the fun loving, sarcastic, always optimist, unrelentingly determined John back. She wanted the Colonel Sheppard who met Rodney wit for wit while coaxing him to do the impossible, who reigned in Ronon when he needed it but wholly trusted him to have his back and the one who trusted her advice, sought it.

By the Ancestors, that man she missed sorely from her life, from all of their lives.

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Having sprung himself from the infirmary before dawn (while Carson was absent), John sat behind his office desk, contemplated the words gleaming back from his computer. But the words blurred, were replaced by scenes replaying in his head: Donecker pinned between him and the wraith, then being yanked out of his grip to be drained by the starving horde. Closing his eyes and rubbing a hand over his still hurting head, he forced the memories away, locked them up where Elizabeth's telling him to leave her behind and taking Colonel Sumner's life resided. The deep dark.

John chided himself as his fingers remained poised over the keyboard, seemed incapable of finalizing the document. His training told him not to hesitate making decisions because, in a blinking of an eye, lives could be lost. His one CO had warned him that he'd lose his way forward if he spent time imagining how the past could have been done better. And his mother, she had said to let his heart lead him because he had a good one.

Crap but John felt like he wasn't living up to any of that good advice.

And speaking of his #2 on his to-not-do list after 'don't hesitate': he was rehashing the past again. The good ole could have beens, the might have beens, should have beens. It didn't start with trying to persuade Ronon to not think teaming up with his old buddies would make the ache of losing Satedan go away. Sure, that was in there but it went back further, ten months back would do. If only he could do things differently, change the outcome of what would come.

If he'd not "hypothetically" suggested he, Rodney, Elizabeth and Carson go against orders and leave Earth, rescue Atlantis from the replicators. They wouldn't make that trip, especially not Elizabeth. She would stay on Earth, wouldn't die in the Pegasus galaxy. Would be safe, alive had he not needed to go skipping off to Atlantis, sure, it was a mission to save O'Neil, Woosley, defeat the reign of the Replicators but also…he had _wanted_ to go back, wanted it all back, the life he had on Atlantis, the home he finally had at last, the family…him, Rodney, Ronon, Teyla, Carson and Elizabeth. Ached to get back what was taken from them, taken, not by the wraith or the Replicators, but the _Ancients_, the freaking people they had idolized. So yeah, maybe he shouldn't be so hard on Ronon for his faith in his old team who hadn't been worthy of that faith. He had done the same pathetic thing with the Ancients.

That brought him to the third piece of advice he was spitting on: letting his heart lead him. He spent most days lately telling his heart to shut the heck up! He was a soldier, not a selfish civilian who didn't know a thing about sacrificing for the greater good. That was bred into him, putting mission first, "Service Before Self" and all that team spirit stuff. But he believed in it, in what the Air Force and the armed services stood for..and protected against. He had never understood how his father had thought so little of his choice to join up, to defend the country his father bragged up for its ingenuity and grit and strength when it came to entrepreneurial gumption. But apparently his father's pride in the country didn't extend to actually putting up or shutting up when it came to taking up arms when that said country came under attack. No, Patrick Sheppard's idea of self-sacrifice for a bigger win was sitting behind a desk and risking Dow shifts.

But honestly, right about now, John wished he was more like his good old dad, who lost not a wink of sleep firing an employee simply because of where his name fell on a company flowchart when a merger deal was finalized. Who didn't show any hesitation or regret in telling his son he was ashamed of him, that he was cutting off his financial support, wouldn't aid him in his rebellion from his family responsibilities. If he was his dad, he would be able to finish the letter staring back at him from the computer screen, not miss his old team like an amputated limb and not dread the appointment he had in fifteen minutes. Apparently being a heartless bastard had its rewards after all.

When the chime came at his office door, he let out a long breath, course the kid had to be early, morosely thought '_To his own funeral'_. In a fit of decisiveness, John's fingers struck the computer keys with finality and finished the letter. But he couldn't convince himself to actually send the file. So he simply saved it before he closed the laptop and called out, "Lt. Tudor, come in."

But a familiar female voice called through the door. "It is not Lt. Tudor, it is Teyla. May I still come in?"

John really wanted to say a resounding "no!" but knew he wouldn't. "Ah, yeah, come in, Teyla," he bid as he sat up straighter in his chair, not ready for this confrontation but what the heck, Rodney and Ronon had had their shot at him, Teyla deserved her own.

Teyla stood straighter, braced herself for the conversation to come and then entered the room, found John behind his desk looking very official, especially with the 'give nothing away' expression he wore. The door closed behind her and she felt the space suddenly too small, understood why John hated being "cooped up in that closet" to finish his reports.

For a few seconds, they were both silent, then they spoke at the same time like they never had before, knew each other too well to do that, had known each other too well.

"I wanted to speak with you John…"

"What did you need Teyla…."

John's lips thinned into a tight line and Teyla clasped her hands in front of her for another bout of silence that lasted between them until she spoke. "I do not wish things to continue the way they are."

Purposefully misunderstanding her, John offered congenially, "Major Lorne can give you a roster of other marines you can have on your team. I know sometimes there's a trial and error process until you get the right people on your team."

Not protesting John's deflection, Teyla instead acknowledged his point about her new team. "Yes, maybe. But there was not this… 'trial and error' process when I joined your team."

John didn't dispute that, his thoughts going to Lt. Ford a moment in sad regret before he admitted, "That was the exception to the rule so don't feel bad if it takes a few personnel changes to get a good fit."

Teyla felt frustration welling inside. John was treating this clinical and militarily, something he notoriously wasn't known for being. Stalking to his desk, she leaned over it to boldly meet his eyes. "John, please stop."

John sat back in his seat, distancing himself from her. "I have an appointment in a few minutes maybe its best if you talk with Major Lorne."

Knowing that she had to have the courage to say what she had come to, she straighten up, put on her best soldier façade and announced, "I would like to be put back on your team."

John showed no emotional reaction to her request, answered in a stony tone, "That's not an option."

"It can be," she implored, wanted to reach out and shake him, get the old John back. "If you allow yourself to trust again. Whatever…_doubt _you have about your team's loyalty to you, they are unfounded, John. Ronon…he did not make his choice lightly, did it out of honor, loyalty, remembrance to his people. I thought you would understand that. You have always understood my duality of being my people's leader and choosing to stay with you on Atlantis." Didn't know why John found Ronon's divided loyalty so hard to forgive when he had forgiven her as much.

"You chose Atlantis and its resources, it was a logical choice," John discerned, denying or unaware of the part emotions played in her decision.

But Teyla remembered her struggle to decide where she could do the most good, how it had hurt to see her people move out of Atlantis and not go with them. Had come to realize, her decision to stay on Atlantis, step down as the leader of the Athosians, it wasn't about being enthralled with the might of the Atlantis expedition. No, it had been about this man, the trust he had engendered in her, the faith that, with him, they could make a stand against the wraith like her people had never dared to do in a hundred years. "No, John, I chose you. My trust was not in an Ancient base or the might of a military force from another galaxy, it was in you."

"Guess we've all made bad career moves…" John joked back, trying not to clutch onto Teyla's words, to make more out of them than he should, to not _believe_ them.

Anger flared in Teyla's eyes as she demanded, "Can you not talk plainly with me? Have I done something so wrong that you can not even stand to look at me!" Because he was looking _through_ her, like she had accused Colonel Sumner of doing on their first meeting. That was the thing with John, he _saw_ her, her strengths, then and always…but now…now he was dismissing her as inconsequential. And he certainly wasn't hearing her.

Her challenge shattered John's stoic wall, had him growling back, "What do you want me to say, Teyla?! The team, our team, it's gone. It doesn't exist anymore." Knew even if he wanted to undo what was done, if he buckled under and groveled to Carter, there was no putting the band back together again, she wasn't going to be doing him any favors. And he knew that was partly his fault, that he had defied her, been outright disrespectful and created tension for everyone around them. But he didn't want Teyla to suffer for the bad blood between him and Colonel Carter, any more than he wanted Ronon or Loren to. In a tone of reconciliation, he pointed out, "Teyla, you've been given your own team, can keep doing what you did on my team. Be the defense for any other threat to your people and the Pegasus galaxy. That's why you joined our side, our fight, because it was your fight too. _That hasn't changed_."

"Then why do I feel like everything has changed?" Teyla implored a catch to her words as her emotions skittered near the surface. "I feel that, whatever I do, with my new team or without it, it does no good, I do no good. That I can not…if I am not with you, Ronon and Rodney, if we are not united."

Crap but didn't he feel the same way! But he wasn't there to bring Teyla down into his slump. "It's just a time of adjustment and getting the right teammates. You'll get that feeling back," he promised, hoped he wasn't lying to her, that she found a place of security and contentment again, even if it wasn't with him.

A sad look of disbelief colored her features. "When I lost my mother then my father, there was no reversing that pain, that grief. This is no different. There is no sense of rightness within me." Steeling herself for rejection, she dared voice her frailty, implored, "Tell me you are not as lost, in as much pain as I am, as Ronon and Rodney are in at this division between us?"

Not trusting himself to be that consummate an actor, to conceal the direct hit Teyla had made, John dropped his eyes from hers, started shuffling the papers on his desk as he huskily replied, "It was never going to last. We already lost Elizabeth. Our team …splitting up this way…I can live with this." '_Sure as hell beats me getting one of you killed_,' he left unspoken.

But he didn't need to verbalize it, Teyla was perceptive enough to make that logical leap all on her own. And it shocked her to realize the core of John's decision to keep the team dissolved was fear, fear that he would lose them, like he had lost Elizabeth. In a gentle tone, she began, "John, I know what it is like to know loss, to live in daily fear of losing yet more of those I cherish. My people, like most of this galaxy, have had no certainty that the very next day the wraith would not come and shatter our world apart. But we chose to not let that fear smother our heart's desires to care for one another, we risk pain and loss for the great honor of being loved. Just like Rodney, Ronon and I risk death to stand at your side, do it willingly, not only out of duty but out of loyalty, out of love for you."

At her open affection, John sprang from his chair, paced the room's small confines, rubbing the back of his neck. "You say all that like it's a _good_ thing! I rather you follow me solely out of duty, that means if you die it's for a higher cause than my stupid reckless orders, it's for something that _matters_."

Teyla ached to reach out to him, stop his pacing, especially in light of the limp she noted in it. "You matter, John. Lt. Donecker believed that and he barely knew you, how much more do you think Ronon, Rodney and I recognize how much you matter, to us, to Atlantis, to this fight and to the continued belief in hope for a better future, if not for this generation, for the next."

John spun on her, bit out, "Stop putting me on this pedestal! I'm not some Ancestral mystical hero that will rescue the galaxy from tyranny."

Teyla paled at his rebuke. "John, I meant no disrespect…or pressure. All those things I've mentioned, you've done them already. My people, this galaxy, they do not even know the debt of gratitude they owe you."

But John bitterly shook his head at her inference. "Not gratitude…._blame_. Everyone here keeps forgetting one vital piece of this mystical tale they've woven: **I** woke the Wraith, all of them, this rampant feeding frenzy of their's, that's on **me**."

"It was not your intentions…"Teyla sharply defended him. "You sought to save your people…you did save me."

John smirked cynically. "As much as I'm happy I saved you…I don't think the worlds that have been decimated by the Wraith would consider that a fair trade for their destruction."

"So should I seek to pay penance for my survival costing so much?" she stridently challenged, already knowing John would never ask that of her, never asked others to pay in pain what he willingly would volunteer to do in their stead.

"No! That's not what I meant!" John denied, horrified at even the idea of Teyla shouldering that blame. Wished he had kept his big mouth shut about his guilt, had planned to forever let that shame unspoken but Teyla had the knack of making him talk about his _feelings_, even when he really _really_ didn't want to.

"John, you can not have it both ways. Either you and I together take the blame for the consequences of you saving my life…or neither of us do, accept that." Though he did not refute her statement nor did he agree with it, and that troubled Teyla. "Colonel, the wraith are unrepentant for the lives they take, always have been. In due time, hive after hive would have sought the destruction of each of those worlds you say have been attacked as a result of your good intentions. And, after all the worlds we have visited, one thing has always been clear: none of them were ever going to win a victory against the wraith, not even should they have only one hive feeding across the galaxy to defend against. Not the Genii, and not even Satedan, with its formidable armies, could stand against them. No, there would have been no sparing of any lives in the next fifty years of each hive's alternate feedings…if you and your people were not standing with us now."

Softly John conceded Teyla's argument, "I'm not refuting the good we've done…Atlantis has done…" That would be a dishonor of all Elizabeth had accomplished, the expedition had accomplished together. And he knew they had done good, had saved many lives…but it was his personal victories that were shaded in grey. Had he saved more people than he'd lost, bartered away, forsaken?! He honestly didn't know..only knew that, to lose anyone else he truly cared about…that would forever tip those scales into the red and he didn't think he could bear that.

As perceptive as always, Teyla understood what John wasn't saying. "But you still doubt the good you've done. John…" but the door chime cut off her planned impassioned speech to sway his poor opinion of himself.

John looked half relieved and half chagrined at the interruption. "Duty calls." Then he circled around her, heading for the door but she grabbed onto his hand. Startled by the physical contact, he met her eyes in surprise at her boldness.

"Please John, we must continue this conversation. Things are not as you see them," needed him to accept they were better with him, the galaxy, Atlantis…and certainly her and Ronon and Rodney. He was not the curse he saw himself as. Far from it.

Not wanting to give Teyla hope that she could sway him with words to reinstate their team, he curtly declared, "Conversation's over, Teyla."

"John…" she protested but he ruthlessly spoke over her.

"It's _Colonel Sheppard_…and you're dismissed," saw the flash of hurt in her eyes before the fire of anger flared…which was far better. He could bear her anger…like he had Ronon and Rodney's…it was their hurt he had trouble stamping down. With something akin to a huff, Teyla left his office, nearly shoulder checked Lt. Tudor on her exit.

"Wow, she was angry. Should I be worried about my own appointment with you Colonel Sheppard," he joked with a cocky smile.

And since the kid wanted to do cocky…John bluntly started their meeting with a harbinger of doom that was coming the kid's way. "Yeah, you should be worried. Come in Lt Tudor." Entering, the kid didn't take a seat, instead stood at parade rest, hands behind him, back ramrod straight. And for once, the Marine's stiff necked formality was ok with John, would maybe make this better, unemotional.

He came to stand before the Lieutenant, eyed the blond haired twenty something year old and dealt out the bad news. "Lt. Tudor, I'm reassigning you off of Atlantis. You'll be on the Daedalus by month's end back to Stargate Command for review."

Tudor's face blanched before it turned an outraged beet red and his military stance crumbled into a furious fighter's stance, all with fisted hands. "You can't be serious?! On what grounds?! I trip one time and you're writing me up!? Do you have any idea who my father is?!"

John didn't blink at the kid's outburst, instead he took a step closer to tower over the kid who was an inch shorter than he was. "I am deadly serious, Lt. And your "trip" is the least of your offences. Major Lorne has cited you on three occasions for aggression and refusing to follow orders…"

"Lorne doesn't know his…" Tudor growled.

Taking another step closer, Sheppard dominated the Marine's personal space, growled right back. "Lt you stow that disrespect! **I'm** the one who made the decision to remove you from your duties on Atlantis. I was _trying_ to give you the benefit of the doubt but then, on your mission with me, you refused to follow the ROE, attacked villagers armed, not with RPG, but _spears,_ before they were ever determined a threat! Lt. Pine was injured because of your actions, not only your aggression, but yes, your clumsiness. And that makes him the second person who has been inadvertently paid for your insubordination."

"If you're talking about Sgt. Schalough, he didn't seek cover in time. That's not on me," Tudor snidely denied.

But John wasn't basing his opinion just on Lorne's report, had asked Sgt. Schalough for his personal recollections of the incident a day ago. And the Sargent's interview only solidified John's conviction that reassigning Tudor was the best course of action. "He wouldn't have needed to seek cover if you hadn't engaged the hostiles against orders and without waiting for backup."

Trying to make a personal jab, Tudor countered, "Unlike _Air Force_ personnel, Marines are taught to react situationally! I saw a threat, I took it out."

"But you didn't…take it out. Your team did," John reminded him, voice rising to nearly a shout, thought the kid would see reason, not be such a prideful moron, be humbled to strive to be a better soldier like the other three Marines John had reassigned had exhibited, at least to his face.

"You should be praising my bravery, not chiding me!" Tudor snarled before he gave a smug smile and shrugged his shoulders as if he wasn't a second ago in a yelling match with an officer of far superior rank than his own. "But none of this matters, actually. My father will overturn your decision."

"No, no he won't," John tightly shot down his claim. "Whatever _influence_ your General father has, it doesn't supersede my ruling here at Atlantis…and it won't sway Stargate Command's final decision of whether or not you remain attached to the program or are removed from duty permanently." John had known all along who Tudor's father was…and what that probably meant for the kid: immense pressure to make his military general father proud. Crap but John knew the uphill battle it was to make a hard hearted father proud of you, a battle he personally had failed at spectacularly. And now the kid was facing that paternal disappointment too. That comparison made John ease up on his hail and brimstone prediction, adopt a consolatory tone. "But if you show remorse, accept the reprimand and grow from it…this doesn't have to be a career killer."

But Tudor was on a tear, wouldn't hear of doing something so demeaning like being repentant and vowing to do better. "What?! So I can be a clerk somewhere?! Type up reports and never see action again?! My father would rather I died in action than have a military paper pusher for a son?!"

John fought back saying wasn't that what a General was, a paper pusher, but he restrained himself. Barely. "I think it's time for you to decide what you want out of your life and stop living it for your father." But that personally hard won good advice went the way of the dodo bird.

"So easy for you to spout out advice and lectures," Tudor sneered. "You doing that for my benefit or to ease your guilt for destroying my life on your whim?!" Then the lieutenant stormed out without being dismissed or waiting for John's reply.

"Great, John. Another person you pissed off. You're gonna have tons of people eager to help you pack your bags," he drawled unhappily to the empty room, realizing then and there that he'd already made up his mind. With a sigh, he crossed over to his desk, opened his computer and his letter was still up on the screen…waiting. With sorrowful conviction he moved it to the send folder.

After all his words to his teammates about accepting that things would not go back the way they had been, he realized he had been a hypocrite, had held onto some boyish hope that everything could be ok again. But it was never going to be the way it was and denying that…it just made the pain worse now that reality was settling in to stay. His life had irrevocably been changed, _again_, like losing his mother when he was child, like his father's disappointment souring their relationship, him waking the Wraith hives, losing Elizabeth…dismantling his team, his _family_. In his book, the definition of change was merciless pain.

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TBC

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Thanks for reading and I am loving those wonderful encouraging reviews!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W. 


	8. Backlash

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

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Chapter: Backlash

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Sam was nervous and what an ego boost that would be to Dr. Rodney McKay, that she was nervous to talk with _him_. McKay who made a habit out of pushing people around, intimidating everyone he thought was inferior in intelligence than he was (in his mind, that was the rest of the populous.) But strangely, he respected her, she even knew he had a strange crush on her. Which probably made this harder…that she might lose even that crush, which she didn't want, was happy in her relationship with Jack but…it was painful to lose respect from someone who idolized you.

'_Stop being a coward and get on with this! You already delayed this a day. And besides, maybe you're wrong, maybe they are wrong, Teyla and Ronon. McKay doesn't like anyone…chances are he probably really doesn't like Sheppard either. Is happy as a pig in mud to be back in his lab fulltime and off Sheppard's gate team. Come on, Rodney is the not the "team" kind of guy, likes being on his own. And being in danger, putting himself in danger?! That wasn't who Rodney was…was only who Sheppard had made him be so he could have Rodney's expertise to bail him out of all those bad situations he walked his team into. Rodney would thank me if he knew it was me who got the ball rolling on dismantling Sheppard's team, freeing him of that ill fitted undertaking.'_

'_Yeah, if you're so sure of that…how come your palms are sweaty and you're hanging outside McKay's lab for ten minutes instead of getting in there?!_' she chastised herself before cursing under her breath and breezing into McKay's lab like she didn't have a concern in the world. Rodney was hunkered over his computer keyboard, mumbling to himself, taking no notice to her carefree staged entrance.

"Hey, Rodney, I have time now for us to go over the quantum calculations for the Midway Station's upgrades you were insistent are necessary," hoping to bond over the project before she snuck in her questions.

McKay didn't even look at her, mumbled as his eyes were still locked on the computer monitor, "Actually I've moved on."

"You figured it out?" wondering why he didn't come crow to her that he didn't need her help to accomplish greatness.

Rodney shrugged his shoulders, intent on whatever mysteries his computer held. "No, just….not in the mood to work on it."

Sam couldn't hold back her scoff. "Not in the mood to accomplish what no else has?"

"Guess so," was McKay's meh rejoinder.

Taken aback at Rodney's lack of enthusiasm for being # 1 at everything, she stood there a moment, saw that his hand was still wrapped in gauze, the hand that Sheppard had shown to her trying to get Rodney off that last mission. ('_Which he volunteered for?! Right, yeah, there goes your idea he didn't like being on gate team missions' _she reminded herself_._) "So what did happen to your hand?"

That had Rodney lifting his eyes from the computer to look at his hand, he gave it a rub like it might hurt. "Nothing heroic…just a stupid clumsy lab accident."

"So who's getting fired from your staff?" because the Rodney she knew was very good at singling out blame and giving out punishments for his staff's screw-ups.

"Huh?" that had him looking at her finally but with a confused expression.

"Fired for being stupid and clumsy and hurting the head scientist they work for," she pointed out, pulling on a smile like they could bond over this, his fondness for scathing rants.

But no rants ensued, instead Rodney gave a sad smirk. "Guess I have to fire myself, really was my own stupidity."

Now Sam was reeling, didn't think it had ever been recorded: Rodney McKay calling himself stupid! What had this galaxy done to the man she thought she knew so well?! But then a thought came to her…of why he was being so self-deprecating. "Listen McKay…I know you probably hoped you would replace Dr. Weir instead of me. And I'm sorry that's putting a wedge between us but we do need to work together. You and I have accomplished great things like the galactic bridge and now that we're both stationed on Atlantis, who knows what we can create."

"Ah, yeah, who knows," Rodney glumly responded to her 'go team, go us' pep speech.

Straightening into her military pose of power, Sam stridently reminded McKay she was in charge, that he had to stow his jealousy. "McKay, it was the IOAs decision to install me as the leader of Atlantis and if you have a problem with that…you're going to have to get past it."

Rodney sighed and sat back in his seat, eyed up Sam, didn't know why she was doing the whole stiff backed military stance over him. "I know it was the IOA's decision and, yes, at first, I was hurt and indignant that they didn't choose me. But then I realized that if I did get the position I could no longer…" but he broke off when he realized what he was about to say, felt the color drain out of his face in shame.

"Couldn't what?" Sam prodded.

But Rodney shook his head. "Doesn't matter now," beginning to lean back over his keyboard.

Sam reached a hand out over Rodney's computer screen, blocking it. "It might matter. Don't be shy, Dr. Couldn't what?"

"Be on Sheppard's gate team!" Rodney snapped back at her, eyes flying up to hers, daring her to make fun of his pain. "I..I didn't want to have to give that up. Funny, huh? Now that I lost it anyways and didn't get the promotion either. I came up a loser on all fronts."

Sam tried to lean against Rodney's desk casually, not like his pain at not being on Sheppard's gate team, his _admission_ of pain, wasn't undoing all the lies she had consoled herself with on her way to this conversation. "If you really miss going off world, I'll assign you to another team. Ronon or Teyla would welcome you on either of their teams or Major Lorne's…."

With a weak smile, Rodney replied, "That's ok," but clearly nothing was ok.

But Rodney was supposed to be relieved to be off Sheppard's gate team, was supposed to make her feel good about all the dominos her removal of Dex from that team knocked over. "Honestly, I'd never take you for a guy who would like going on dangerous off world missions," her tone bordering on chiding. "You always seem most happy spending time here in the lab…alone. Well, and now you run your own lab, have your own team to lead here on, some would argue, the best posting in Stargate Command."

Rodney tapped his hand on his leg, gave Sam a bittersweet smirk. "Yeah, that's who I thought I was too: The _brilliant lab guy_," was deprecation in that title where she expected pride.

"But you…surprised yourself," Sam speculated, honestly wanted to know what had created such a change in the prideful man.

Rodney's smirk turned into a smile, a real one, and his tone was enthusiastic like it hadn't been their whole conversation. "Actually Sheppard surprised me by wanting me to be on his gate team, by trusting me to have his back when the crap hit the fan." As suddenly as his smile had emerged, it fled, was replaced by regret, loss. "He had faith in me…that I could be a braver, _better_ man than I ever thought I could be." But he was speaking in the past tense, of something precious he had and had lost.

"You didn't…volunteer for his gate team?" Sam asked, putting together more pieces.

"Don't be ridiculous! I am not stupid!" Rodney indignantly protested even the suggestion. "He took me along all the while whining and complaining and freaking out because…" his eyes did a hit and run with hers, didn't see condemnation only curiosity so he huffed out a breath and confessed, "… I was scared. Terrified, really. But he…he got me through it."

Sam didn't need to ask who that "he" was: John Sheppard. And she didn't have any trouble noting Rodney's tone was one of affection, respect and an outpouring of gratitude.

"He…he got me to calm down, to come up with solutions instead of calculating the ways we'd fail. Astonishing thing is…now I worry less about losing my life and more about him losing his." Rodney's face instantly went pink in embarrassment, he hadn't meant to admit that, how much Sheppard's friendship, _life _meant to him. But heck, he had already spilled his guts, he might as well say the rest so Sam knew just how pathetic he was. "Now he's going out on missions …being in danger, without me to have his back and without Ronon or Teyla. Then there's the indisputably fact that he's picked the worst losers to be on his team, trading them up for even worse choices like he's got some death wish?!" criticism ringing in his words but never overshadowing his worry.

After all the startling revelations about how strongly Rodney valued Sheppard, ached to be back on his team, to protect the Lt. Colonel, Sam numbly found herself defending Sheppard, "He's evaluating them." At Rodney's confused look, she clarified, "They all have reprimands in their files and it's his job to determine if they should be reassigned or even removed from service." Her intervention didn't seem to lessen Rodney's ire but raised it.

"Did it occur to the idiot that their bad behavior might get him killed while he's doing this _evaluating_?! Probably not! He goes for the reckless solutions first, take on a supercharged Wraith alone, drive a suicide bomb down the Wraith's throats, face a firing squad with a nearly depleted shield, thinking he can fly a moon?!" Rodney ticked off John's greatest impulsive hits before he pointed to his hair. "If you noticed any hair loss since you saw me last, it's because I had to yank out all the grey Sheppard's given me over the past three years!"

Rodney's voice went up another octave as his emotions spiked recalling their most recent hair greying mission, hated that his mind replayed the ship blowing and Sheppard on the ground on fire not moving. "And I know a new patch sprang up from that last mission because Sheppard had to be hero, had to tell Ingram to blow up the ship _before _he was out of it. If I hadn't managed to delay the Lieutenant's bomb detonating finger until Sheppard was clear, he'd be dead right now! Still nearly was, as close to the explosion as he was. He was on fire, he put that in his report?!" Because Rodney knew that would be just the thing Sheppard would conveniently _forget_ to mention in his debrief, like any harm that came to him was irrelevant. Sheppard not going to the infirmary after being on _fire_ was just another shining proof of that disregard for his own well-being. And now, to know he was purposefully assigning the Marine misfits to be his teammates?! If he and John were on speaking terms, Rodney would give the man an earful on what he thought of these of so brilliant ideas of his.

Sam recognized so little in the man before her of the arrogant genius Rodney McKay that she thought she knew so well. This was a guy terrified at having almost lost his leader, his _friend _on their last mission, was a _soldier_ not wanting his unit to go on missions without him there to have their backs. "You really care about him, don't you? Even after he removed you from his team," her voice hoarse, Rodney's emotions having stirred hers up.

"It wasn't just me he cut ties with, was Teyla and Ronon too," he said it like it was a comfort, that it wasn't only him Sheppard had distanced himself from, that it wasn't personal.

It made Sam realize why Sheppard might have dismantled his whole team when she decided to remove Dex. Because if it were just Ronon being reassigned, it would have seemed personal, especially while McKay and Teyla got to keep what Dex had lost. '_Ronon had just lost his three Satedan friends, maybe the last souls he had a connection to from his destroyed world, and then you decide it would be best to rip him from the friends he has here_.' Because that's what Sheppard, McKay and Emmagon were to Dex, his friends, he had said that in the hive ship, "my friends are right here." But she had forgotten that, discounted it, had pulled out her cracker jack psychology degree and thought she knew what made a man like Ronon tick, what his decision to leave Atlantis signified.

Wrongly reading Sam's silence as her waiting for him to answer her original question, Rodney moodily answered like he was confessing to a crime, "Fine, yes. I care about him. If you have to know, he's my best friend and I've never had one of those before. Honestly, I've rarely had any relationships that I'd label friendships or even remotely close." His face fell before he dismally mumbled, "Course I guess Sheppard and I aren't that close anymore either."

"Just because you're not on his gate team that doesn't mean you're not friends," wasn't sure if this pep speech was for McKay's sake or to assuage her guilty conscience.

"Tell Sheppard that," Rodney retorted. "He's acting like I betrayed him, like I was the one who wanted to leave Atlantis. That was Ronon!"

"So just because Ronon was discontent being on Sheppard's team, Sheppard maybe thought you were dissatisfied too, would be happier if you were in your lab full time instead of being on a gate team, any gate team," she supplied, totally leading the witness to make the conclusion she wanted him to.

Instead of agreeing with her conclusion, Rodney railed against her discernment. "Ronon wasn't "discontent" being on our team! It was just…" Rodney paused seeking the right words, to express the turmoil he knew his teammate had been under, choosing his old friends or choosing them. "His Satedan buddies popping up not dead, he thought he owed them his loyalty. To be honest, I think it was more him feeling loyal to his world, to feeling guilty he couldn't be there when it was attacked. But that wasn't his fault. And yeah, I'm sure Ronon planning on leaving Atlantis hurt Sheppard, though he'd rather you gouge his eyes out instead of admitting to even _having_ feelings to be hurt… but…" Here Rodney broke off, had that look of consternation on his features. "But Sheppard booting Ronon off his team and me and Teyla too…I did not see that coming," pain hueing his words, like it was a betrayal he had yet to come to terms with.

Shaking his head Rodney theorized, "It seems…" paused, like he didn't like the word he was about to say but said it anyways a beat later, "…._petty_ and John, he's a pretty forgiving guy." A flare of pink heated up his cheeks as he admitted, "He forgave me and I did much worse than what Ronon did." Rodney knew John was furious he had given Elizabeth the nanites, gone against his direct orders to do it, not to mention John said she would not have wanted that. And for a while there, he had thought that he had found a way to get Elizabeth back but had lost John in the process, that there was no coming back from the decision he had made. Miraculously John did forgive him…at least Rodney thought he had. But what had John said about their team...implied it was _broken_ before he split them up.

"Some things cross the line," Sam offered as an explanation, cursing herself all the while for not taking that opening to confess what she had done, put into motion, chiding herself for being a coward.

Rodney grimly acknowledged her sentiment but for his own actions, not Ronon's, achingly said, "Now that Elizabeth's gone…maybe…what I did…it led to that and maybe her dying on Atlantis….peaceful …it would have been….kinder." Because God only knew what the replicators were doing, had done with Elizabeth, especially since she was a permutation of human and replicator, thanks to him. '_Maybe John has every right to hate my guts, blame me for Elizabeth being gone in maybe worse ways than in death._ _I broke his trust thinking I knew best but …did I? Was this outcome 'best' for Elizabeth?!' _

Having no idea their conversation would lead to this topic, Sam realized there were things left out of the official report concerning Dr. Weir's fate, the implantation of the nanites. "But what you did, you were following Colonel Sheppard's orders to give her the nanites so the outcome isn't yours to shoulder alone."

Shock leached the color from Rodney's face as he corrected her, "No, I wasn't following Sheppard's orders…I went _against_ them. He explicitly ordered me not to give her the nanites but I did it anyways. Thought I was saving her life," self- censure there before he bitterly concluded, "didn't know that would only buy her a day before…she did what she did. Which she wouldn't have done if she hadn't had those nanites I put in her."

"So you're saying it wasn't Sheppard's idea to use the nanites to save her?" Sam cross examined, knew every detail in the official report that Sheppard had filed about the former leader of Atlantis' disappearance and this contradicted it, strongly.

"No, it was mine. I put that in my report…" but his voice dropped off as he realized who he had delivered that report to: Sheppard. "Sheppard changed it, said…what? That he gave the OK for the nanites?"

Sam nodded. "Your report, Dr. Keller's and Sheppard's all stated that you conferred together on the idea but he was the one who authorized you and Keller to perform the procedure."

"That stupid martyr!" Rodney ranted with equal parts frustration and raw affection for his best friend. "He covered for me, let the IOA think he gave his approval when he hated my decision, thought it would lead…to nothing good. And he was right."

Sam recognized a pattern in the Lt. Colonel's personality, to take on the blame when others were at fault to protect people, to do that to garner peace instead of strife in Atlantis. _'Like not telling his team it was by my orders Dex had been reassigned, not Sheppard's.' _

"Guess he's tired of safeguarding me from my own arrogance, cut me loose from his team so everyone could finally see what I screw up I really am," Rodney dejectedly surmised, couldn't blame John for his actions knowing what he knew now, how John had put a ding in his career to protect him, and it probably wasn't the first time.

Convicted by Rodney's grim take on Sheppard's rationalizing for splitting up their team, Sam knew she couldn't let this go on. That it had gone on long enough, had far reaching consequences, that she was hurting people by her silence, had hurt far more people than Sheppard with her decision to remove Dex from his team. She could no longer sit back and let the Lt. Colonel be the fall guy for her decisions. "Rodney…I…I need to tell you something."

Her stammering had him looking at her with alarm and suspicion. "Wait, tell me you're not removing me from Atlantis!"

At that absurd statement, she quickly declared, "What?! No! Course not…you're a very valued member of the expedition! We'd be lost without your knowledge of the Ancient technology."

But that rousing endorsement seemed to be insulting to McKay. "So it's just my mind that's worth something. Great, it's Area 51 all over again. '_Too vital a team member to our research department to risk on off world missions_' was the way they phrased it as they escorted me out of Stargate Command Center and shipped me to the desert."

With new insight, Sam knew it wasn't leaving Stargate Command Center that had really hurt Rodney, it was being separated from Sheppard, from Carson, from the few remaining people he considered friends, no, _family_. And she had set up that no win situation here all over again with one horribly erroneous "insight", a huge case of professional jealousy and blindingly egotistical ambition. "It wasn't Sheppard's decision," the words came out strong but inside she knew she was tearing down everything she hoped to build on Atlantis, heck, her whole career's future by making the confession.

Misunderstanding, Rodney corrected her. "No, it was Stargate Command's. They said I would do the best good at the Area 51 sta…."

Sam spoke over him, bluntly wanting to get it said, get it understood. "It wasn't Sheppard's decision to remove Ronon from his team. It was mine."

Rodney stared at her open mouthed, speechless, a rarity indeed for him before he surged out of his chair, was yelling at her like the McKay she knew. "Why?! Why would you do that?! Because you wanted to punish Ronon? For what?! Wanting to leave Atlantis on your first day here and making you look bad? For his friends betraying us!? We were all fooled!"

Heatedly Sam gritted back, "I get that! They betrayed him! I never thought he was part of that. After all, if he hadn't come back here, got a rescue team together, your team would have been killed. So no..it wasn't a punishment."

"Then what do you call it! ?! A time out?! Out of school suspension?! Parole?!" Rodney demanded on a roll of outrage.

Sam fisted her hands, tried to not let McKay goad her into being unprofessional. "He wasn't happy on Sheppard's team so he got his own team to lead. I hardly call that a punishment."

Instead of renewed anger, Rodney stammered, "Wasn't happy….you think…did he say he wasn't happy on our team?"

"Clearly there were more factors for him wanting to leave Atlantis than the arrive of his friends," she insisted, though hadn't she already realized that assumption was wrong wrong wrong.

Rodney's eyes narrowed as he sensed something amiss in her answers. Darn him for being the genius he bragged himself to be. "And you'd know this how?! Because Ronon poured out his heart to you?!" he sarcastically drawled.

"No, course not," Sam snapped back. "But there are always underlying reason for people to leave their positions, their homes." '_Their families_,' she categorized silently, knew it was the most incriminating of all truths, proved that her take on Ronon's reasonings were dead wrong.

"His decision to leave was about loyalty, guilt not…" Rodney stared her down as he finished his theory, "not about him wanting to leave, being unhappy."

"Right because he told you that, you being all buddy buddy and having a lot of heart to hearts," Sam snidely protested.

"He didn't have to tell me! I know the man! He's as loyal to Sheppard as I am!" Rodney's eyes bulged as a revelation hit him and he felt sick to his stomach at the ramifications, stammered, "Wait…you told **John** Ronon wanted off his team….used words like "_discontent_", "_dissatisfied_", "unhappy?!" Recollected then that John had said Ronon wasn't "content" on his team as a justification on why he split them up. Now he knew who had filled John's head with those lies. "You convinced John that Ronon wanted to leave Atlantis, was unhappy on his team. You did, didn't you?!" he furiously extorted her for a confession, was already calculating the damage Sam's insidious interpretation of Ronon's actions would have had on John.

Sam stiffened at the scathing rebuke. "Sheppard was too emotionally invested to see things clearly."

Rodney felt immeasurable relief that Ronon's removal from their team was against John's wishes until he remembered he and Teyla had also suffered Ronon's fate. "Did you kick me and Teyla off his team too?" he quietly demanded, searching for the lies she would try to get past him.

"No, that was all Sheppard's idea." At least in that she was innocent.

Gutted by that revelation, it took Rodney a minute to put away his hurt feelings, to instead concentrate on the new factors that had been tainting all of Sheppard's decisions. It took him less than a minute to come up with a sensible _Sheppard_ reason to remove him and Teyla from his team in light of Sam's poisoned insight. "Right, of course. After you told him Ronon was _unhappy_ on his team, implied that John _sucked _as a gate team leader. Sheppard would think anyone on his team would feel the way you implied Ronon did, that Teyla and I _wanted_ off his team. He all but tried to convince us he was doing us a _favor _by disbanding our team." John had tried to do the whole, 'this is for the best' speech in the conference room after he brutally announced their team was splitsville but Rodney had been in too much shock to really be receptive to that PollyAnn take on what he had deemed a tragedy.

"I only told Sheppard what I thought was true," Sam stiffly tried to defend herself, even as she knew it was a lame comeback.

"True?!" Rodney screeched, getting into her face. "You don't know a _thing_ about what's true for Ronon or Sheppard. Where'd you get your psychobabble advice?! From a Chinese fortune cookie!"

Meeting Rodney's fury with her own, she growled back, "No! I've read the statistics, the psyche reports on teams and units. Ronon expressing a desire to leave had underlying meanings and I thought forcing him to stay on Sheppard's team would have been detrimental to the entire team, maybe to Atlantis. Changes needed to be made for the good of your team."

"What Team?! I have no team thanks to you!" Rodney wagged an accusatory finger at her. "You didn't have the right to rip apart my team….my _family_…but you did it anyways. Did it because your ego has gotten bigger than your heart! Because apparently it's fun moving people around at your whim like they are chess pieces!"

"Sheppard could have appealed my decision with the IOA. He surely didn't have to kick you and Teyla off his team," she countered even as she knew Rodney would never take her side over Sheppard's. Not now.

"Course he did! You made him think we'd be better off without him." Fury pouring out of him, Rodney snarled, "Why didn't you just cut to the chase, grab a knife and stab Sheppard in the heart literally while you were doing it figuratively!" Because Rodney had learned to read between the lines with John Sheppard, to know when the man was hurting and wouldn't admit to it. Knew the soldier was more tenderhearted than he'd ever let anyone see. Was certainly reeling from the loss of Elizabeth, was hurt by Ronon's almost departure and then Sam came along and told John that Ronon's wanting to leave Atlantis was his **fault?**! Crap but John Sheppard was a pro at assuming guilt, sure didn't need Sam helping him add to the load, especially guilt for something that wasn't even true! "John Sheppard is not one of your damn formulas you get to callously tweak and then stand back and jot down the outcome!"

That shamed Sam most of all, that McKay was calling her out on her hardheartedness. And worse, he was right. She had treated all this very detached, very clinic, very pragmatic, hoping to get an ending she liked. One where John Sheppard wasn't the hero, she was. Instead McKay was looking at her with something bordering on hatred. "Alright, I might have misread the situation," she conceded but Rodney gave a harsh mocking snort.

"Might have? **Might have**?! How about definitely!" Crossing his arms, he demanded of her, "How are you going to fix this? You better do it quickly before he heads out on another mission with more misfits and get himself killed." Then he paled as a thought struck him. "Oh crap…please tell me Carson pulled him from duty today! Who's next on his roulette of minions…" he wondered aloud as he went to his computer, pulled up John's login screen and entered the Lt. Colonel's password.

Standing over Rodney's shoulder, Sam protested, "Wait, you're hacking into Sheppard's files! McKay I will not let you bend any rules you like!"

Rodney, undeterred, shot back, "Hey Sheppard stole my passwords! Turn around's fair play," as he scanned through Sheppard's file names. "Ah, here we go..schedules and…no, no no" he panicked at the title of one document that sent his heart dropping to his toes: "Transfer request – JS". Opening the file, he scanned it before furiously turning in his chair to give Carter a glare that had the power to kill. "Are you _happy_?! He's asking to be transferred out of Atlantis, actually wants out of the Stargate program!"

"Oh crap! He didn't…" she disputed, almost shoving Rodney off the chair so she could get a look at the file he had opened. But the document's intention was unmistakable as were the words Sheppard had typed: "I feel I no longer have any worthwhile contributions to make to the Atlantis expedition."

'_Crap but Jack will kill me if Sheppard resigns! Will put two and two together and know I screwed things up.'_ "Did he send it?!" she breathlessly demanded, knew her own career hinged on the answer.

Turning back to the computer, Rodney reported, "It was dated yesterday," hit a few keystrokes before letting out a relieved sigh. "Thank God we haven't sent any transmissions to Earth since then."

Sam closed her eyes in relief. She hadn't counted on Sheppard just folding his hand, had thought he would realize she was someone to be reckoned with, would bow to her orders like he had with Ronon's reassignment. She never thought he would ever willingly walk away from Atlantis, from his _home,_ from his _family_. "So there's still time to….

"..Undo the mess you've made of everything?!" Rodney furiously finished for her. "You better hope so or John's transfer request will just be the first! Of course maybe that was your goal: to run Atlantis all on your own. Be the IOA's golden child."

Not bothering to reply to McKay's scathing allegations, Sam resolutely vowed, "I'll talk to Sheppard." But Rodney stood up, got in her way, cut off her single-minded path to the door.

"No! I think you're the last person he needs to hear from right now." Rodney had no intentions of letting Sam within fifty _feet_ of John, would ensure even her freaking emails to Sheppard got dumped into the junk mail folder from here on out. She had done more than enough damage to his friend, he wouldn't let her inflict any more, regardless of her rank.

Before Sam could rail back at McKay, his computer started flashing red to coincide with a high frequency beeping. Returning to his station, McKay muttered under his breath as his fingers flew across the keyboards. "This doesn't make any sense I put in the right password, got access…but it's saying there were five erroneous password attempts but…" Accessing another screen of data, McKay stilled. "They were entered at Sheppard's computer."

"So Sheppard entered the wrong password a few times, happens to all of us after we do our monthly password change," Sam excused, looking over Rodney's shoulder at the computer information.

"No, no, John's extremely good with numbers, he's wouldn't…oh, crap," Rodney turned to face Carter before he ominously concluded, "Someone's trying to hack into Sheppard's computer."

SGATSGATSGATSGAT

Since Carson had cornered him in his room last night to do his checkup and gave him a lengthy chewing out for skipping out on the infirmary and not keep off his feet, John knew it was no use trying to assemble a gate team. Honestly didn't put it past the good doctor to have a snitch in the gate room who'd notify him if John even looked longingly at the gate today. With no off world missions to occupy his time and unable to even do his morning run because his stupid leg was throbbing in pain even with some of the pain medication humming through his veins, he was left with the ho-hum prospect of a day of paperwork. Oh joy.

He wasn't even looking up when he started to step into his office, but then his spidey senses told him he wasn't alone. Jerking his head up, he thought it might be Carson doing another ambush or one of his ex-teammates wanting another brutal heart to heart..what he wasn't expecting was to find Lt. Tudor seated behind his desk, fingers poised over the keyboard and his handgun on the desk within easy reach. "Lieutenant, what the.." he began in outrage, startling the Marine, who, typical to the kid's personality, thought it was a good idea to shoot first, field reasonable questions later.

"Oh crap!" John dove back out the door, thought '_Close! Close! CLOSE_!' to the door. But even as he was midair in his leap to "safety" and the door was sliding shut at his bidding, white hot pain seared into his right thigh seemingly at the same time gunfire resounded in the confined space. Hitting the ground, hard, John ignored the agony shooting up his leg, reached for his gun…which wasn't there. Crap but he hated going around unarmed, mentally told himself to at least put a knife in his boot even if he was tooling around Atlantis all day.

Pressing his hand on the bullet wound on his thigh to stanch some of the blood spilling out on the floor, he growled at the Lieutenant when the Marine made his inevitable exit from his office. "Lieutenant what the hell are you doing?!" thought it was somewhat good news the kid wasn't pointing the gun at him, had it dangling in his right hand at his side.

Standing over his downed and bleeding CO, Tudor growled, body humming with adrenaline and desperation, "You're going to delete my reassignment order, remove any disparaging remarks about my duty performance."

Seeing the way the kid was trembling, knew his rage was barely checked, John tried to placate him, "Tudor, we can review your options. You can get an IOA representative to process an appeal against my decision."

"No!" Tudor roared, pointing the gun not at John but near his general direction. "You're going to make it all go away! I know you didn't transmit the file yet, no one knows what you did to me, no one can know!"

"I can delete the file, I can do it now," John offered because sure he'd have to delete the file anyways… to replace it with a big old court-martial indictment.

Taken aback by Sheppard's consensus, Tudor fidgeted on his feet. "Right, ok. So …get in there…delete it."

"I'm going to need a little help getting up," John pointed out, reaching his hand up, hoping Tudor would take it and he could unbalance the kid, pull him down to him or simply deliver a good old right cross and knock the kid out. End all this crazy before it got more out of hand than it already was.

And Tudor was taking the bait, was reaching for his hand…until someone came running onto the scene behind John. "Stay back!" Tudor shouted like a raving lunatic, put a bullet in the wall near the intruders to encourage compliance and they did a fast retreat. John took that moment to act, used his left leg to swipe at the kid's legs, topple the kid to the ground, was going to wrestle the gun from his hand but the Lieutenant reacted too quickly, took advantage of John's weakness and dug his thumb in his bullet wound.

Crying out in agony, John abandoned his attack, instead curled his body around his leg, was at Tudor's mercy until the kid let his leg go. When he finally did, John was barely hanging onto consciousness. Probably how the kid got behind him, dragged him to his feet, well, left _foot_, and placed the gun barrel into his neck as two Marines came down the corridor that the other intrepid visitors had fled from seconds ago.

"Stay back!" Tudor screamed, moving backward, dragging John with him. "I will kill him! I've got nothing to lose now!"

STAGSTAGSTAGSTAG

TBC

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Thanks for reading and for those reviews that I eat up like Chocolate!

Have a great day!


	9. Things Unspoken

Tinderbox

SGATGSATSGATSGSTSGATSG

Chapter 9: Things Unspoken

SGATGSATSGATSGSTSGATSG

"_I've got nothing to lose now!"_

John didn't like the sound of that coming from a kid with a gun to his head, who had already _shot_ him. '_Damn it, I'm not in the mood to be this kid's therapist_!' he silently grumbled to himself before his internal voice growled at him, _'Suck it up, John! Stop whining and talk the kid out of shooting you! Again! Because, this next round, he's aiming a little bit north of your leg. Like your head.' _As if proving that point, Tudor painfully dug the barrel of the gun into his neck as he continued to back up as the Marines advanced, pulling John with him.

"I said stay back or I will kill him right now!" Tudor yelled at the Marines and John didn't need to look to know Tudor's finger was poised to pull the trigger on the .45. Grimly, John determined that this wasn't some situation gone off the rails in ways Tudor hadn't foreseen. No, the kid had brought his _gun_ to John's office, had used it without much hesitation and didn't seem to have qualms about using it again, lethally this time.

John gave the two Marines eye contact, nodded his consent for them to adhere to Tudor's demands, didn't trust that Tudor wouldn't turn the gun on the two Marines if he killed him, if he crossed that line. Certainly didn't want anyone else hurt because of his screw up, because he didn't see the crazy in Tudor before this, because he mishandled the kid's reassignment. '_Heck, what hadn't I mishandled lately_.'

Submitting to their CO's instructions, the Marines didn't advance further, let Tudor manhandle Sheppard backwards down the hallway. But they seriously considered bulking at their orders when Tudor pulled the Colonel into a transporter and whisked him away. They both spun around as a voice caustically demanded, "What is going on here!" Reacting to the strident tone more than Dr. McKay's right to boss them around, the one Marine reported, "Lt. Tudor shot Colonel Sheppard, took him hostage." Then Colonel Carter was on the scene having run to catch up with McKay, demanded, "Where are they?" at the same time as McKay was demanding, "He _shot_ him?! How badly? Where was he shot?!" his agitation arcing his voice up into nearly a squawk.

Unconsciously the second Marines eyes darted to the floor outside Colonel Sheppard's office, a gesture McKay mirrored and then paled instantly at the sight of the blood pooled there and the trail of splashes of that red fluid down the hallway leading to the transporter. "No, no, no," Rodney worriedly protested the grim signs of his friend's injury.

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When Teyla entered the gym ten minutes early for her first class, she was surprised to see Ronon there, not surprised exactly by his presence but that he wasn't practicing moves was instead sitting on the steps, motionless, a faraway look in his eyes. "If I knew you wished to spar, I would have arrived sooner."

Ronon came back to himself, acknowledged her presence in the room. "Didn't come to spar."

Setting her bag on the floor, she came to stand before her teammate. "Then why are you here?" already knowing he wished to talk but for Ronon there always needed to be some prompting for that action…like a good swift hit of the banton sticks to his face.

"I didn't badmouth Sheppard with Colonel Carter after our mission," he defended, had seen her questioning look when he had asked to speak privately with Carter after their briefing and there had been…concern and warning in her look.

"I never thought that you did. But I admit to being…" Teyla paused, searching for the right word of confession, "…curious about your private conversation, though it is none of my business."

Ronon shrugged like her prodding wasn't intrusive. "Wasn't anything secret just wanted Carter to know it wasn't Sheppard's fault, what happened to Donecker…my skirmish with Sheppard in the lunch room." He paused before he included the most important incident on his list, "My Satedan's friends betraying us. I didn't want Sheppard blamed for my sins."

"It was not a sin to trust ones you believed you knew so well," she defended him as she claimed a seat beside him on the stairs.

Ronon ran a hand down his dreadlocks. "I never saw it coming, Teyla. I was so….blinded," he growled out in self hatred.

Laying a hand on his arm, Teyla consoled, "None of us suspected their deception." Debated with herself before she added, "Not even Colonel Sheppard."

"Is that supposed to make me feel better?! That they fooled him too, were merrily leading him to his death and he only agreed to join the mission out of loyalty to me?!" He surged from the steps began pacing, wished he had not been such a fool, that it wasn't ripping his world apart, that trust he had had in Tyre and the others, trust where there should have been mistrust.

Teyla sighed, knew that Ronon's guilt was heavy and she didn't know how she could lessen it. Knew only John could do that and he was…pushing them all away. "You can not change what has happened, you must learn to …"

"Live with the consequences," Ronon scathingly finished for her. "What if I can't, what then? Sheppard almost got himself killed on that ship…would have died going after Donecker if I hadn't been there, hadn't stopped him. Who's going to be there to stop him next time? To have his back when he's too focused on saving everyone else that he doesn't bother to save himself?!"

"I do not know!" Teyla shouted back, as upset as Ronon about what had nearly happened, about how John had not merely dismissed her but ordered her from his office the day before when she tried to convince him to reinstate the team, reinstate _her_.

Ronon's eyebrows rose at her uncharacteristic rancor. "You can't live with the consequences either, can you? What I brought down on all our heads, what I destroyed."

Teyla looked away, knew it would be easy to blame Ronon for all this but there was more brewing than that. John's anger had been directed at her, at his perception that she was putting him on a pedestal, expecting too much from him. "John is angry with me as well. Thinks that I …ask too much of him, expect him to…be everyone's savior. And I never meant…it's just…he just…."

"I know," Ronon ruefully agreed with a smirk to what she could put into words. "I guess I was bragging up Sheppard, was telling Tyre he could fly anything even a wraith ship, had gotten two queens to declare war on each other and destroy their hive ship." His lighthearted smirk fell away. "Tyre got sick of it, told me to remember my fealty had blinded me before…with Commander Kell. Said maybe Sheppard was using me…"

Affronted at the comparison, Teyla heatedly shot back, "John is _nothing_ like your former commander, has never put his survival before…."

"I know that," Ronon quietly but firmly cut off her defense of John. He had defended John as vehemently to Tyre, and not all with words.

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Slamming his old friend against the nearest building's wall, Ronon coiled his hand around Tyre's throat as he snarled, "Don't you **dare** say Sheppard's name in the same breath as Kell's."

"I'm looking out for you," Tyre croaked out, not wasting the energy to try and get out of Ronon's hold.

Eyes boring into Tyre's, Ronon menacingly warned, "You say another insult against Sheppard, you are on your own."

"You would back out on your word to join us all because I slighted your commanding officer?!" Tyre incredulously chided. "Sounds dangerously familiar. You did the same things when I tried to make you see the ugly things about Kell."

Ronon pinned Tyre harder against the wall, leaned his face threateningly into his other man's. "Sheppard is my friend! You disrespecting him I won't tolerate."

Tyre raised his hands in surrender. "Fine. I won't mention him again. None of us will." Then he quietly counselled, "And maybe you shouldn't either."

Ronon's jaw clenched, not talking about Sheppard, all he'd done for him, that they have done together, all the man had come to mean to him?! It was a sacrifice to bury all that. Grudgingly he told himself, '_You've made your choice…now you have to live with it_'. But it had felt like he was the one insulting Sheppard by not mentioning him, and the notion of cutting out all the good memories they had shared, not only memories with John but with Teyla, Rodney..the time he had spent on Altantis? It made him feel hollowed out….like watching the video feed of a decimated Sateda.

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Gently Teyla posed to Ronon, "Is that how he …persuaded you to leave Atlantis, join them…with …twisted words, manipulations and lies?"

Renewed shame washed over Ronon. "I believed things I shouldn't have."

"What ..things?" Teyla prodded.

Ronon began pacing again, didn't want to see her expression as he told her Tyre's lies that he had foolishly put some stock into. "That I didn't have friends here, that I was just an "ally" a "guest." It had belittled everything Ronon had come to believe, trust in the two years he'd been on Atlantis, been part of John's team_. _It had _hurt_ thinking Tyre was right._ "_Tyre said he and Ara and Rakai were my true friends, my family."

"That is not true!" Teyla immediately and fiercely denied as she came to her feet.

Ronon steeled himself and met her eyes, saw not judgment but concern in her features, concern for him. "Yeah, I …I know that…_now_. But I…let that doubt that Tyre seeded destroy everything."

"Everything is not destroyed..it is just…"

"I lost John's trust and I don't think I'm getting it back." In rage he punched the wall, hung his head against the ruined surface a moment later. Knew he wasn't voicing the real lie Tyre had broken him with. Tyre had said what John didn't… wouldn't: "You belong with us."

John had only said: "_You're a valuable member of my team, hard to replace…_" And yes, Ronon knew John wasn't the guy who talked about his feelings, didn't lower his walls and admit to "needing" someone so him saying all that…it was a lot, should have meant something to Ronon. Hadn't then but did now…when he was no longer graced with John's trust, was no longer a member of Sheppard's team, had indeed been…replaced.

"I told you Tyre and the others had always been there for me…but Sheppard has done more for me than they ever had…ever would have." John had trusted him when he gave him no reason to from the very start, gave him forgiveness when he screwed up with that Lucius mess and trying to kill him when the Wraith mind machine messed up his head, saved him when everyone else would have given him up for dead when the Wraith turned him into a runner again. '_And how did I repay him…by planning on leaving him, by leading him right into a trap that could have gotten him killed?!'_

Crossing the room to Ronon, Teyla put her hand under Ronon's chin, guided it off the wall and turned his face toward her. "Ronon I am hurting, just like you, just like Rodney, but I also know John is hurting to."

Hope glittered in Ronon's eyes, "If this isn't what he wants…us broken up…he can…"

"Fix it, yes. I told him that but he…" Teyla recalled her conversation with John and sighed, dropped her hand from Ronon's face. "I believe the loss of Elizabeth has caused him to doubt his ability to ….keep us safe."

Ronon snorted. "Safe, who asked to be safe."

"I know..we have grown up without that security in our lives but John…" She paused, realizing this was another thing John thought she unreasonably expected from him. "He thinks that is something we expect from him, for him to save us, let no harm come to us and with what happened with Elizabeth…he knows now that is impossible. That no man can wholly protect those he loves."

"So what are you saying? He's pushing us away from him in some stupid idea that's going to protect us?!" Thought that was the most ridiculous thing he'd heard, John protected them by being _with them_, same with them being with him. They protected each other…just like he had _thought_ his old teammates had.

Slowly, Teyla nodded her head, "I believe so."

"That's just stupid," Ronon bluntly stated. "He's the reason we're all still here. I'd be dead on Sateda if he hadn't come for me." But he undertoned, "Came for me because I am a valuable member of his team, I guess."

Teyla's face creased with confusion. "Why would you say that? He came for you because you are family to him."

"That's the way you think of us, not Sheppard. And that's ok..I get it." And it was enough, that Sheppard saw his skills useful and in turn, him useful. Well, had found him useful before he messed everything up.

"Clearly you do not "get it"." She grabbed hold of Ronon's hand and his eyes came to meet hers. "Why do you think…"

"He said it…when he knew I was thinking of leaving… that I was a valuable member of his team, hard to replace…" When Teyla seemed hard pressed to fight back a laugh, he angrily demanded, "What?!"

"That was John's rousing speech to make you stay? No wonder you made the decision you did," the mirth in her tone taking the edge off her words.

"What!?" Ronon growled again, didn't get the joke.

Teyla, with a smile still in her eyes, gave Ronon's hand an encouraging squeeze. "Ronon, John didn't want you to stay because you were simply a "valuable member of his team, hard to replace". And he wasn't hurt by your decision to leave for those reasons, he considers you family, his brother."

"You're twisting words around to make me feel better," he gloomily accused, pulling his hand from hers.

"Am I?!" she challenged with an arc of her eyebrow. "When we were going to Sateda to find you, I thanked John for going after you, an outsider like myself to his people. And with much…." here she chuckled at remembering the stammering conversation she had had with John… "…awkwardness, he said that we are the closest thing to family to him: myself, Rodney, Carson, you…," then with sadness entering her tone, she included the last name "and Elizabeth. He vowed that he would to do anything for any one us…even give up his life."

"We don't want that from him!" Was the very last thing Ronon wanted, for Sheppard to die trying to save him, knew Teyla and Rodney would feel the same way.

"I know but that is John's way," sorrow and respect in her declaration. "Just like he would have died trying to save Donecker…."

"And Elizabeth." At Teyla's look, Ronon revealed, "He didn't want to leave her, might not have…if I wasn't there."

Teyla solemnly nodded, could well believe that. John did not just give up on his people, certainly not his family. Which made what he was doing now so unexpected and unconceivable…and painful.

"So if I'm family to him, can't he forgive me? Thought that was what family did, forgave you when you were being stupid, made wrong decisions?" He was rusty on the workings of family, his own having been gone since he was thirteen but he remembered arguments and punishments and forgiveness…always forgiveness from his parents.

"I wish I knew what to do, Ronon. This is…unlike John, to withhold forgiveness…to be so….harsh and unapproachable. I know the loss of Elizabeth has been…hard on him, maybe has…changed him."

Not one to sit back and not take action when something was wrong, Ronon demanded, "Ok, then how do we help him?"

Teyla had to smile. Ronon came off as this big gruff guy and yet, he had a heart of gold, wanted to help John no matter how much John's distance was hurting him. Just like Ronon had been the one who insisted on staying with John in the infirmary when Sheppard had gotten infected with the retrovirus. She was about to admit she didn't know what to do when their radios chirped and Rodney's distressed voice demanded, "Ronon, Teyla I need you at Sheppard's office."

"Oh crap, what now?" Ronon muttered to her but replied to McKay with a no-nonsense, "We're on our way." Then he was out that door at a run and Teyla was only seconds behind him because, if John needed them, they would be there. That was the way of family.

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Rodney noted that Ronon hadn't even asked for reasons for the urgency. '_Course Ronon can guess Sheppard's got himself into something because doesn't he always_,' Rodney grimly surmised, wished it wasn't a common theme, John in trouble, his life hanging in the balance, it up to them to save him or lose him forever.

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As the transporter doors shut and Tudor was contemplating how to free up one of his hands to select his desired destination on the map while still keeping Sheppard in his control, John spoke.

"I don't mean to be a bad hostage but I think…" mid words John cracked his head back into Tudor's, grabbed the barrel of the gun and shifted it away from his neck right before Tudor pulled the trigger. The report of gunfire was loud in the tiny space, nearly deafening. It didn't help that the bullet ping ponged loudly around, ricocheted off one wall and sank into another, namely the destination map, sending sparks showering the two men who were battling for control.

Using his grip on the gun to yank Tudor forward, John crouched down, flipped the Marine over his back to impact hard enough with the floor for Tudor to lose his breath. Course, it didn't help the Lieutenant's intake of air when John pressed a heavy boot to his chest as he twisted the gun out of his hand. The transporter doors chose that moment to slide open, showed that the bullet ricochet had selected a destination for them: the very top of the west tower.

Though it hurt like a bugger pressing his right foot onto Tudor's chest, blood from his bullet wound coursing down his leg onto Tudor's chest, John didn't release the Marine, in fact he pressed harder and raised the gun to the kid's chest when Tudor started to lift his hand off the floor. "If you're thinking of digging your thumb into the bullet wound again, **don't**," a lethalness there that Tudor took seriously, stilled his hand.

Suddenly, the map panel began sparking again, some of it spitting down onto Tudor and onto Sheppard's shoulder. Tudor cried out in pain, jerked his head to the left as a spark sizzled on his cheek. Realizing they weren't going anywhere in the transporter and staying inside was like waiting for the control panel to blow up in their faces, John lifted his foot from Tudor's chest, had to shuffle back until he was against the wall to help support his weakened stance. When he waved with the gun toward the exit, Tudor climbed slowly to his feet.

Mindful of Sheppard's reaction if he showed one ounce of aggression, Will showed every outward sign of compliance as he walked out of the transport to stand on the ten foot ledge circling the tower, looked out at the buttresses jutting out of the tower. Drawing in a breath of the ocean air, he determined it was a good place for a last stand.

Pushing off the wall, John limped out of the transporter, had to jerk away when sparks caught him on his way out. Maybe it was that distraction, maybe Tudor had already made his move without his knowing it but whenever it had occurred, Tudor had gained the upper hand again. Because when Tudor turned around, faced Sheppard, he held a grenade in his hand, made a show of tossing the pin to it over the edge, to the long fatal drop below to the water surrounding Atlantis.

Shaking the grenade, Tudor taunted, "I let this go and it won't be just you I take with me…it will be everyone in this tower, the sleeping quarters, the labs and, oh right, the armory," smiled as if that last location was the golden ticket. "I would _love_ to see the chain reaction its explosion would make. Might destroy all of Atlantis and you know what! **It will be all your fault**!" Tudor shrieked, losing his hold on his sanity again.

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TBC

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Out of the frying pan..into the fire. Hehe.

Big huge thank you to my awesome reviewers! And a shout out to my silent readers out there.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	10. Standoff

TINDERBOX

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Chapter 10: Standoff

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Arriving at Sheppard's office at a run, Ronon demanded, "Where's Sheppard?" having already noted his friend's absence from the gathered Marines outside the office and only Carter and McKay's presence in the office. His stomach clenched as he saw the blood on the floor, nodded to it when Teyla arrived after her five second lag time in keeping up with him, felt her stiffen at his side.

Assuming charge of the situation, Carter began in her official tone, "There's been…" but McKay brusquely spoke over her.

"Apparently one of his misfit Marines went psycho on him, shot him and took him hostage," Rodney caustically announced, his tone expressing irritation while his nerves were fraying in worry for his friend.

"Why would he do that?" Teyla questioned in astonishment.

"Who knows?! And does it really matter right now?!" Rodney sharply dismissed her inquiry, going back to keying in more codes in John's computer.

Deciding it was time to stop letting McKay cut her out of the situation, Sam interjected, "Lt. Tudor's reasons might matter, could help us take him down, prevent him from injuring Sheppard further."

Sam's statement ripped Rodney's attention from the computer, had him scathingly snapping at Carter, "Yeah, right. Like you _care_ about Sheppard all of a sudden!"

Sam's jaw clenched in indignation before she bitingly retorted, "Doctor McKay, this is not the time! We need to work together to save John."

Rodney would have snorted if that was in his repertoire, as it was, he huffed instead. "Excuse me if I think my team has had more than enough of your brand of _help_." Grabbing the computer off John's desk he exited the office without a glance to Carter and spoke directly to his teammates, "I think I know where the transporter took Sheppard."

"Let's go!" Ronon impatiently growled and the threesome took off at a run.

Watching them go, Sam silently cursed. Would it have been too much for Rodney to share Sheppard's location?! Turning to one of the Marines, she ordered, "Get me a computer, now!" When he left at a run, she tapped her ear piece, "Control room, get me in contact with Major Lorne."

A disembodied voice replied, "He's off Atlantis, Colonel."

Sam fought back the urge to growl, 'No shit Sherlock', instead gritted out, "Yes, I know that's why I need you to open the stargate and contact him."

"Oh…right…will contact you when I have opened communications with him," came the contrite reply.

"Thanks," but there was little gratitude in her tone. Then she was left standing there, feeling useless, was useless. '_Great, this is going to look good on my reports, one of our own going section 8, taking Sheppard hostage.' _A snide part of her grumbled_, 'And once again, Sheppard's the center of attention. The one person all of Atlantis thinks they simply can't bear to lose.' _Instantly she was awash in shame. The man was shot, being held hostage by one of his subordinates and, according to his resignation letter, thought he didn't belong on Atlantis anymore. And this incident surely wasn't going to change Sheppard's mind.

'_No, that falls to you_," she sternly reminded herself. Knew that she'd have to eat humble pie, put Sheppard's team back to rights, even _apologize _to Sheppard. He would probably make her grovel to get him to stay, bask in the power he wielded here in this little world that she had been thrust into to sink or swim. And she had thought she was swimming…was doing fine, better than fine, finding her footing…even as she was destabilizing the very ground Sheppard walked on.

Unbidden, something she read came to her: "The best career decision…no, probably the best decision I've made in my life was to strong arm General O'Neill to talk John Sheppard into joining the Atlantis Expedition." Sam had done a mental gag when she first read it, thought Dr. Weir clearly had been hopelessly in love with Colonel Sheppard or simply drowning in hero worship for the good looking man. But now doubts were crowding in, that Weir's belief in Sheppard wasn't hormonal or emotional, that her faith in him wasn't some fangirl longing but something John Sheppard had earned, at great cost. And if even a minimal percentage of that devotion was based on logic…what would be the ramifications to Atlantis if John Sheppard really did resign, or worse still, got himself killed by a twenty something year old unstable Marine?!

It was Jack's voice in her head saying, '_I think it's best for everyone if you don't find out that answer_.'

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Piling into the transporter, Ronon and Teyla watched Rodney select a location on the map even as they tightened the grips on their guns, ready to react as soon as the doors opened. But a moment passed and the doors didn't move and another moment and yet another.

"McKay," Ronon gritted out the warning between his teeth didn't know why McKay thought now was a good time to dawdle.

Rodney forcefully pushed the west tower transporter location on the map only to be met with the same lack of results. Without turning around, he could feel Ronon's angry eyes boring into his back. "Hey, it's not me! The transporter there isn't working!"

The news and its implications chilled the three occupants of the transporter. "The Marine disabled it?" Teyla asked, not liking the foresight the Marine was showing if he did that. If the Marine was thinking clearly enough to cut off a rescue team from getting to Sheppard, he might have a plan, might not be reacting just out of necessity but purpose.

McKay was too busy consulting his computer to answer her until Ronon shoulder checked him and demanded, "Was it intentional?"

"How should I know?! Probably?!" Rodney irritably provided, not looking up from his files because John's life was at stake and what his files told him was the best help he could provide his friend.

Ronon had nothing that useful to do, couldn't even pace in the enclosed space. "Fine, then we go to the closest transporter and make our way to wherever Sheppard is." Having noted where McKay had intended to send them, he stabbed his finger forcefully on the closest location to that area on the map. Within seconds the door was opening and he was stalking out, already charting in his head which direction would get him to the tower the fastest. He didn't even concern himself that Teyla and McKay weren't following him.

This was his mess and he'd handle it. Sheppard would have never even taken this Marine on his gate team if he hadn't screwed everything up, hadn't betrayed John's trust in him, made Sheppard feel that dissolving their team was his best move. And John had to be _alive_ for him to make amends, so he could finally say the words he had so easily offered Tyre and the others when he first found them, earnest words that he had yet to choke out to Sheppard: _'I'm sorry.'_

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The marine was returning with a computer even as Sam's earpiece came alive with control room operation. "Major Lorne's go for communication, Colonel Carter."

"Major Lorne?" she asked even as she claimed a seat in Sheppard's office, her fingers moving across the computer keys in quick succession.

"This is Major Lorne," Evan Lorne's voice was all business, holding none of the lightness she had heard the Major embed his conversation with for everyone else.

Sam was smart enough to know his coldness wasn't her imagination. "Major, Lt. Tudor has attacked Colonel Sheppard…

"What?! The stupid hot head! Is the Colonel OK?!" Evan's aloofness vanishing at the news of his CO being in harm's way. He didn't find it reassuring that Carter was calling to tell him that, that it might indicate John was…no, damn it. That fool Tudor couldn't have gotten the best of someone like Sheppard.

"The Lieutenant shot Sheppard in the leg and took him hostage. Do you know what could have incited Tudor to do this?" Because McKay was wrong, the whys mattered, especially when things went emotionally toxic for people.

Evan sighed, hated that he had warned John about losing favor with the Marines but hadn't seen this coming. "I know the Colonel was evaluating Tudor, had already reassigned some of the other Marines. Either Tudor thought his number was up….or the Colonel already informed him he was being reassigned."

"I wasn't aware of any reassignments," Sam volleyed back, upset she was being cut out of the loop.

There was a defensive bite to the Major's comeback. "I know you are the leader of Atlantis but as military commander, Colonel Sheppard has the final say on military reassignments. His recommendations go directly to the IOA."

Not privy to that tidbit, Sam put her irk aside for the matter at hand. "So Tudor was being reassigned?"

"Don't know that for sure but it wouldn't be a stretch to guess Colonel Sheppard would make that decision. Kid was a hot head, reacted violently before a situation called for it and to top it all off, was clumsy."

"Well this clumsy "kid" got the drop on Colonel Sheppard, shot him and managed to escape to another part of Atlantis with him," reprimands for them underestimating Tudor in her every word.

Realizing the reprimand wasn't directly solely at him, Evan defended Sheppard with his next breath. "Colonel Sheppard doesn't take reassigning someone lightly. That's why he was personally evaluating them before making his decision. We both knew Tudor was teetering on the edge of either getting his act together or being unreliable to have in the field."

"I think we are well past the "being unreliable" stage, Major," Carter cuttingly pointed out the obvious.

"Clearly Colonel," Evan scathingly retorted, hated that the Colonel was blaming Sheppard for this when even the best psychiatrists were fooled by psychopaths every day. "I'm an hour from the gate but…"

"We'll handle things here, Major," Carter said in the way of a goodbye but Lorne had more to say.

"Notify me when Sheppard's safe and…" the Major paused before he dropped his military tenor to add, "Tell Colonel Sheppard that I'm sorry I didn't recognize the warning signs in Tudor. I…I screwed up, Colonel. Tudor was under my direct command and I didn't foresee this happening."

'_Yet another person willing to throw themselves in front of a bus for Sheppard_,' Sam thought but not with the disgust she had earlier. In all fairness, she had to relent, had had her own share of unstable personnel to compare Tudor to. "Yeah, I….it's not always evident when someone's on that edge, has the potential to do others harm. You probably couldn't have known…either of you," she said, giving clemency to Sheppard along with the Major for the unhinged Lieutenant's actions.

"Thank you, Colonel Carter," and that was the first time Major Lorne seemed to be speaking respectfully to her then he cut the communication. Insightfully, Sam hazarded a guess that the Major's respect, it wasn't garnered because she had given _Lorne_ a pass…it was because she had given _Sheppard_ a pass.

With her new information on Tudor, she accessed the Marine's personnel file, saw there were no red flags on his mental capability scoring, nothing that would keep him out of the Marines or sideline him from being chosen for the Stargate Program. But then there was one fact that hued those findings: Tudor's father was a general, not to mention had backed the Stargate Program on the committees he was a chair or member. It gave her cause to think he had made sure his son's application got green lighted no matter how Sebastian's tests turned out. It also gave her insight to why the Lieutenant was reacting so violently to Sheppard cutting him from the program: He feared how his father would take the disgrace of having a son who embarrassed him among his military peers.

Tapping her earpiece she called out for Rodney. "McKay? I know what set Tudor off. Sheppard's reassigning him. Do you copy?"

A beat later McKay replied, "Well can't say Sheppard was off the mark making that call. But maybe he should have told Trigger Happy Charlie that _after_ he shipped him to Stargate Command for a fake vacation."

"Seems he would have reacted badly no matter where or when he heard the news."

"Yeah but Sheppard wouldn't be bleeding out somewhere as his hostage if the kid couldn't get to him."

Sam didn't miss that McKay seemed to imply that he'd be OK if the kid had even taken all of Stargate Command hostage as long as his friend was safe. "Speaking of getting to Sheppard, have you located where they went?" hoping he'd share his findings with her this time.

"Yeah by tracking the transport energy reading I think they ended up at the top of the west tower."

"What's up there?" she asked, wracking her brain for the schematics of her new home.

"Besides a long drop…nothing," Rodney grimly reported, causing Sam's thoughts to match his, knowing that Tudor picking that locations wasn't a good sign, at all.

"You sure that's where they went?" she cross examined because Tudor heading just about anywhere else in Atlantis with Sheppard would be good news.

"Pretty sure, especially since the transport at the west tower is out of commission. It had a high spike of energy and now there's zilch. We went to the closest transport to it and are hiking up there now." There was no whine about the climb from Rodney, even as his voice was labored with the physical effort.

"I'll send help," she stated, broke the communication before Rodney could again refuse her personal help. Whether Rodney liked it or not, she was in charge of Atlantis, its people's safety was her responsibility, making John Sheppard's safety unmistakably in her hands.

'_If something happens to him…if we lose him_…' and the ramifications of that horrible outcome were staggering. Because as much as she had kept telling herself she was the new cornerstone of Atlantis, that she didn't need Sheppard's help to run Atlantis or win victories against the wraith, the prospect of him not being there, either resigning from his position or being dead, left her feeling hopeless. Even when she had ripped his team apart, reproached his every action, he had still supported her command, had not undermined her with his teammates by telling them she had split them up, had not turned the Atlantis staff against her, had not refused one single order she had given him…even the one to remove Dex from his team. He was an honorable man, a good man and she had done wrong to him, just to further her own career, boast her own ego. Crap but McKay was right…she had let her ambitions turn her heartless. 

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It wasn't the first time John had tried to reason with an unstable kid, but Lt. Ford he had had a soft spot for, knew his 'temperament issues' weren't natural but were forced upon him by the wraith serum. Tudor had no such excuses but still, John felt a fragment of kinship with him. Knew what it was like to be faced with your military career plummeting faster than a downed Black Hawk. "This is not going to get you want you want," he quietly pointed out to the grenade holding soldier.

"**You took away what I wanted!"** Tudor screamed back, beginning to nervously pace the ledge. "Drop the gun, Colonel, unless you want me to drop this grenade."

Complying, John tossed the gun into the transporter, out of his reach and hopelessly out of Tudor's. "Ok, it's just you and me. If you don't hurt anyone else, we can salvage this, get you some help."

Tudor gave a raw laugh at John's offer. "Help…you think I'm a Section 8, that I can't handle the "stress of combat". That was one thing I _could_ handle. I was good at it: the violence, the danger. I had finally found that zone between fear and not disappointing my father and surviving to being _capable, _even more _alive_ when the danger came. And you think you get to take that away from me, who I am down deep."

Thrill seeker, daredevil, adrenaline junkie…hadn't those labels been whispered behind John's back too. "It's who you _like_ being but, take it from me, sooner or later, you come to a standstill and everything that risk and adrenaline muted comes rushing back, tenfold. The fear, the desperate panic to not die…the pressure to live up to your father's expectations for you."

Tudor stormed closer and John didn't retreat, let Tudor wrap his hand around his throat and snarl, **"Don't talk about my father!"**

Sensing someone approaching from around the corner behind him, John called out a warning, "Wait! Hold your positions!"

"Hold my…" Tudor stammered confused before the Colonel's tall dreadlock teammate turned the corner followed a few moments later by Teyla and that scientist guy who got all worried about Sheppard when he saw him in the infirmary. "Stay back!" Sebastian shouted, spinning Sheppard around and pulling him aback against him to use as a shield for the second time that day. Waving the grenade, he threatened, "You shoot me and you're killing him, blowing up this whole tower," retreated a few steps back with his hostage, moving closer and closer to the edge of the platform.

"Guys, get out of here, evacuate the tower," John ordered, felt his dread that this would end badly spike higher now that his friends were in the blast zone.

Teyla, Ronon and Rodney made not one move to do as he said.

Rodney fidgeted where he stood, the sight of John's pant leg soaked in blood, his friend's dreadfully pale face and how easily he had been jerked around by the kid Marine, chilling him to the bone _before_ he registered the freaking grenade in the wacko kid's hand. '_Of course Sheppard can't just be bleeding out from a gunshot wound in his leg, be this kid's hostage, no, his day isn't complete until an explosive device is involved_.'

Though she ached to focus all her concern on John, Teyla respected John's command, knew her friend would not want others hurt if the situation went badly. So she radioed Carter to start clearing the tower even as she prayed that precaution was not necessary, especially because the first mortality if the grenade detonated would be John.

As for Ronon, he took a bold step forward, drew closer to his friend and the kill zone the Marine was threatening to unleash. "I'm not going anywhere," he growled, itching to use his gun on the kid endangering Sheppard's life but he instead lowered it, stood there like an immovable mountain. "Not without you," he vowed, eyes holding John's trying to tell the man what he hadn't been able to convey since his Satedan friends' betrayal, since his plan to leave Atlantis. That he had _wanted_ to stay, that it _hurt_ him to choose to leave, that John's brotherhood it had dwarfed his friendship with Tyre and the others…it just hadn't gone deeper than his loyalty to Sateda, to the honor he owed his home.

"I'm ordering you to leave!" John barked, needed to know Ronon wouldn't pay the price for how he had mishandled Tudor, that no one would. That this time, the only one who would suffer for his mistakes, was him.

"That's one order I'm not going to follow, Sheppard," Ronon calmly but firmly announced.

"None of us are. So why don't you step back from the ledge," Rodney suggested, didn't like how close his friend was to the long drop the location afforded.

John, pinned in the hold of a grenade holding unstable twentysomething year old Marine, incredulously spat at McKay, "You do realize I'm not the one who needs talking off this ledge, Rodney!?"

"Really?!" Rodney caustically challenged, stepping forward to come even with Ronon so he could more effectively glare at Sheppard. "Because I came across your little letter that you penned yesterday: Your request for a transfer."

"That was private!" John shouted, couldn't believe he was in the middle of this crapstorm and Rodney was reading his freaking outgoing mail.

"It isn't private when it affects me!" Rodney heatedly countered before tacking on like it wasn't all personal, "Not when it affects _us_….Atlantis."

Tudor looked to Sheppard stunned. "You're leaving Atlantis…willingly?!"

To John his decision didn't seem very "willingly", seemed simply like accepting the situation was hopeless, that he was worse than ineffective, was detrimental to the expedition, to the fight, to all Colonel Carter could accomplish if he wasn't there mucking up her command. With Elizabeth it had felt like a partnership, like she needed him, wanted him there, that she counted on his help to run Atlantis. Carter wanted none of that from him, clearly thought he didn't bring anything worthwhile to Atlantis, was just baggage Elizabeth forgot to take with her… like all the rest of her possessions being packed up from her room and office and shipped back to Earth.

"That true?! You're leaving?!" Ronon demanded, his anger, hurt, feelings of betrayal plain for anyone to see.

Those were the same emotions John felt when Ronon told him that he was leaving, was joining his Satedan friends, choosing them over him, over Atlantis. Faced with Ronon's obvious disappointment in him, John shamefully admitted, "Guess I'm a hypocrite…pissed you wanted to leave and now I'm the one leaving."

Tudor seemed to take offence that he wasn't the center of attention. Pressing the grenade he held in his grip against John's chest, he growled, "Hey, no! No one's leaving! I'm still in control here."

Looking over his shoulder to Tudor, Sheppard contested the Marine's declaration, "Are you in control…or is your father?"

"**This is all me!"** Tudor screamed, hated that Sheppard thought he couldn't think for himself, needed his father's instruction, influence to do anything daring, bold.

Knowing Tudor's weakness was his father, that it was driving most of Tudor's actions right then, John gentled his tone, "Hey, I get it if anyone does, trying to live up to a powerful father's expectation."

"Don't try and pretend we are alike!" Tudor growled in John's ear, tightening his grip on the man, wanting to control the situation.

"We kind of are," John gave a lighthearted shrug, his words now only for the confused kid holding him hostage. "I tried to make choices that pleased my father, thinking…hoping ….it'd ensure his love. But all I was doing was sacrificing what I wanted to do, who I wanted to be and I was miserable being who he wanted me to be. Tell me you don't feel the same way? You said you were terrified you'd disappoint your father, that you had to find some part of being a Marine that you liked, were finally good at. So this wasn't your choice, joining the military, being a Marine, being assigned to Atlantis, was it?"

Tudor shook his head. "I had no choice…it was all he ever wanted for me. And now…." The kid's voice broke a bit, ",,,what you did…when he knows I got cut from the Stargate Program, it will shame him and he'll never forgive me. Never!" The kid was back to trembling and John wasn't reassured to see the hand holding the grenade was joining in with the not being steady thing Tudor had going on.

Though he ached to reach out, close his hand around the grenade, John knew Tudor would put up a fight and with neither of his legs up to par, he wasn't so sure he'd get the upper hand, keep it long enough for Ronon to reach them, intervene. And if he made the bid for the grenade and lost, everyone on this ledge, everyone in the tower would lose with him. So John used his words instead. "Maybe he will be ashamed… but he wouldn't want you dead, wouldn't want you to end your life here."

Tudor sucked in a shaking breath, grimly speculated, "He might be glad, relieved to have me gone."

Crap but that was not the conclusion John wanted the kid to take away from all this! "Actually I'm pretty good at judging the reactions of pissed off fathers. Rodney, why don't you use your hacking skills for good this time and pull up Tudor's emails from his father."

"You can't do that!" Tudor roared, stepping forward as if to stop Rodney before he caught himself, dragged John back as he retreated two steps.

But Rodney was already on it, fingers flying across the computer keyboard, and though he didn't know John's game plan he trusted him all the same, like he always did. "Ok, few emails here…junk mail…oh cute kitty videos," Rodney sounded amused, like he was watching the freaking videos. Looking up to John he reassured, "He can't be all bad…he likes cats."

"Rodney!" John growled, hated when McKay got distracted when lives were at stake.

"Oh, right…father's emails." Rodney got back on track, pulled up the emails, began skimming them and reading the interesting parts under his breath searching for anything that could help Sheppard sway the kid from going nuclear.

"Aloud, Rodney, read them aloud," John gritted out, trying for patience when it was paper thin about then.

"No! They are private!" Tudor screamed, tightening his grip on John and the grenade.

Tudor's outburst had Rodney pausing, wanted Sheppard's ok to push the kid's buttons, knew there could be dire consequences for Sheppard if the kid lost the last bit of sanity he was clinging to.

"Rodney doesn't care about privacy," John censoriously retorted, a little peeved his own privacy Rodney blew by but this kid's he was leery to invade.

"Fine," Rodney snapped, reading Sheppard's anger at his snooping in his personal files very clearly, just wished John got it that it was concern for _him_ that was holding him back, certainly not some drop of respect for the kid's privacy. Focusing again on the emails, he hit the highlights. "Blah blah blah about some cousin getting married, his aunt's sending him cookies…and …oh…" Rodney stopped reading, looked to Sheppard, wished he could tell the colonel this wasn't going to help his situation.

But John read Rodney's look, gently prodded, "Read it, Rodney. It's ok."

Swallowing, Rodney began to read the words Tudor's father had sent to his son. "I know you didn't want to join the military but look where you are now, Son. You've finally made me proud after all your failures. I have to admit I started to doubt you'd cut it but you sucked it up and now you're on the best posting. I hope you know the work I put into getting you there, that it wasn't your skills but my influence that got it done. But now it's all up to you to do well, that failing there, in this, will reflect badly on me and I won't have that, Sebastian. I've given you leniency in the past, forgiven your mistakes but this isn't just about your future, it's about mine. If you disappoint me, well, that's simply not acceptable, Sebastian." Rodney lifted his eyes, didn't search out how Tudor was taking the recounting of his father's tough sentiments instead looked to see how Sheppard was handling the disappointment that it wasn't an inspiring fatherly letter of 'I'd love you even if you fail out of the Marines' pep talk. That it did more harm than good to John's precarious situation.

Sheppard nodded to Rodney in a gesture of 'you did good', telling his friend that it was ok, he'd already suspected what Tudor's father had been filling his son's head with. Was like a redo of his father's lectures to him. _'Don't fail me, don't embarrass our family name, run the family company or else you're useless to me._' Behind him, John heard Tudor choking back a sob.

The kid sorrowfully predicted, "He won't forgive this."

John wasn't going to lie to the kid, even if it could make things better for his own situation. "Maybe he won't forgive you…but you can survive his disappointment. Can make your own path in life and find joy in it…not just the seconds of it when you get an adrenaline rush being a Marine but enjoy your life as a whole."

"I…I can't…he's told me what I was going to be my entire life…" a little boy lost tone in Tudor's voice that John felt a kinship to. Had been there once, his whole life planned out for him.

"My father did the same thing. Wanted me to run our family company and when I realized I hated that future….I made other choices." Stated it like it had been easy to do when it was one of the hardest things he'd done in his life up to that point, except bearing the loss of his mother.

"What did he do? What did your father do?" Tudor demanded, wanted some clue how things might turn out for him.

"He didn't understand. And when I joined the Air Force…" here John lifted his eyes, met the startled expression of his teammates, knew he was showing parts of him they'd never been privy to before. "..he told me if I wasn't part of our family's success I shouldn't reap the benefits, said I wouldn't get a dime of his money anymore. That I was…a disappointment to him." Later his father would call him much worse…a disgrace to the Sheppard name after his almost court-martial but imparting that tidbit wouldn't help Tudor.

"How did you bear that?" Tudor earnestly asked, didn't think he could face his own father treating him like the Colonel's father had treated him.

"I just did because I had to." John didn't mention it hurt like hell, realizing his father's love was conditional, vanished when he made choices against his father's iron will. "But the path I choose, it helped, gave me a chance to know myself, what I was capable of, who I really was without trying to be my father's protégé. And you can do that too, find out who you are and what makes _you_ happy."

"I can't! I'm not strong enough to do that! I might as well end it here rather than in some gutter being penniless and homeless and a disgrace to my family back on Earth." With that dismal outlook, Tudor stepped closer to the edge of the ledge, roughing pulling Sheppard with him.

With his leg, correction, _leg__**s**_ not anything near 100% operational, John couldn't keep his balance when Tudor yanked him to the right, especially not with his knee picking that moment to refuse to brace his weight. He gave an undertoned, "Crap" as his right leg totally gave out under him, sent him lurching to the right and he had nothing to latch onto to halt his free fall. He heard Ronon's roar of "No!" and a panicked, "John!" and "Sheppard!" from Teyla and Rodney as he got a sickening view of the long drop from the tower as he started to tumble head first over the ledge.

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TBC

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Author hangs her head in almost shame at yet another cliffy! Sorry guys that's where I have to end the chapter!

Love to my reviewers and everyone reading this.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	11. Bound Together

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

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Chapter 11: Bound Together

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The rules of gravity said John should be plummeting to his death about then…except...Tudor, instead of releasing him to his fate, surprisingly **tightened** his one armed grip around Sheppard's torso. So John did not fall forward down the long drop to the water below, was yanked backwards to land unceremoniously on top of Tudor as they both tumbled back onto the safety of the ledge.

Instantly, John's friends started rushing to him in relief. Sliding out from under Sheppard, Sebastian came to stand between Sheppard and his teammates, blocked them from reaching their injured leader. "Stop! Just…stop!" but now there was a tremor of uncertainty in Tudor's voice, just like there was a tremble in his hand that held the grenade.

Propped up on his elbows on the ground behind Tudor, John asked, "You could have let me die…why didn't you?"

"Sheppard, I think the words you should be saying is "thank you?!" Rodney huffily reprimanded, didn't want Sheppard causing the kid to reconsider tossing John off the ledge or blowing them all up. Ignoring the unhinged kid standing between them, Rodney pinned his gaze unto Sheppard who stubbornly was trying to make it to his feet, bleeding shot leg and all. "Could you just stay down?! Stop moving?! Maybe you haven't noticed but you're bleeding like a sieve!" his eyes on John's pant leg saturated with blood from the bullet hole he was sporting.

McKay's words alerted Tudor to Sheppard's movements, that he couldn't keep his back to the Colonel, thinking he wasn't a threat. Making a half turn, putting his back to the transporter, Sebastian kept his eyes on Sheppard who was stubbornly climbing to his feet no matter the disapproval of that scientist guy. Waving the grenade toward one threat then the other, Sebastian snarled, "Don't doubt I'll do it!"

With a bit of staggering, a lot of biting back grunts of pain, John regained his feet, faced Tudor with a new level of empathy for the Marine. "You could have just let me fall, Lieutenant, especially since you don't need me as a hostage. With the grenade, you already have tactical advantage."

"Sheppard," Rodney hissed, "stop arguing points for why he's free and clear to kill you!"

But John shook his head, denied Rodney's fear even as his eyes stayed locked on Sebastian's, "I don't think he's going to kill me, McKay."

Teyla, sensing movement behind her, scouted back a few hundred yards around the tower's bend, saw that Colonel Carter had arrived with six Marines in tow, intent on making their presence known to Tudor. Meeting them halfway, she commanded, "Remain back. The Lieutenant has a grenade and John is trying to reason with him."

"I'll talk to the Lieutenant," Sam announced, ready to show everyone that she was the one in charge. She wasn't expecting Teyla to block her way.

"I mean no disrespect, Colonel, but I do not think anyone but John will convince the Lieutenant to give up." Because Teyla thought as John did, that Tudor had his chance to watch John die and instead had saved him. It changed her opinion of the Lieutenant, made her realize that he still swore some fealty to Sheppard, regardless of his actions.

"Sheppard's the one who's reassigning Lt. Tudor so clearly he's not Tudor's favorite person," Sam snapped back before stiffly reminding Teyla, "Besides, I'm the leader of this base and it's my responsibility…." Starting to circumvent Emmagan but the brunette stubbornly sidestepped into her path.

"Colonel Carter, I will not let you pass," a vehement determination in John's female teammate that made Sam believe the woman would physically stop her…and attempt to do the same with the _six _Marines with her. Clearly Emmagan was so blinded by her faith in Sheppard that she couldn't see the bigger picture, the bigger _threat _Tudor posed, so she pointed it out to her. "More is at stake than Colonel Sheppard's life now."

"John knows that better than anyone," Teyla passionately declared, felt an urgent need to get back to John to make sure the man didn't sacrifice his life to save all the others that the unstable Marine was putting in jeopardy. Not daring to waste more time with Carter, she compromised, "Colonel you can come but alone. And you must remain silent, trust John to handle the Lieutenant."

It pricked Sam's ego to be commanded by Teyla, clearly her subordinate, but seeing the set look to the other woman's features, she knew this was the quickest way to end their standoff. "Ok," she earnestly conceded before turning back to the Marines and ordering, "Stay here but be ready to move at my command." Getting obedient nods, she started to trail behind Teyla who was already quickly making her way back to her teammates and John Sheppard and, oh yeah, an unstable Marine brandishing a grenade that could blow up the entire tower and do unknown damage to all of Atlantis with the armory located only a few levels down from where they stood. '_And I'm relegated to silent observer, am being asked, no, __forced__ to put all our lives in John Sheppard's hands._ _Everyone better be right about him_,' she thought as she made her way around the tower's corner. Seeing the standoff in progress, she silently cursed.

"I still have all the power!" Tudor shrieked, offended that Sheppard was no longer taking him seriously.

"Power to do what?! Kill People? Kill your fellow soldiers, **civilians**?!" John heatedly demanded of Tudor before he quietly declared with conviction, "We both know you're not going to do that."

Facing off with his leader, Sebastian shouted, "You don't know that! You don't me!"

But John didn't take back his claim. "I'm the one you're pissed at and you had your chance to get even with me and you didn't take it. Instead you saved me. That's not the actions of a murderer of innocent people. That's the actions of a **good man**."

Shifting from one foot to the other, Tudor mumbled almost to himself, "There's no way out for me. My father…will do worse than disown me."

"Is that all that matters to you…not your own honor, your own future…just getting your father's approval?!" John reproached, hoping the kid was enough like him to not destroy himself trying to please his father. Gambling Sebastian was stronger than that, John declared, "Because I don't believe that. Your father's not here, Sebastian. What's happening right here, right now, it's not about what **he** wants, about **his** choices, it's about what **you** want, about **your** choices. What happens next is all on you. You have to decide who you are, not who your father wants you to be."

Forlornly Sebastian asked, "What if I don't know who I am if I'm not who he wants me to be?"

Crap but didn't John ask himself that same question when he was finally brave enough to stand up to his father, tell him his dreams for him weren't John's dreams for himself?! "Ok, alright," he gently started, stepping closer to the jittery kid. "Let's start with the make it or break it question. Are you a domestic terrorist? Because if you detonate that grenade, that's what you'll be and no one will give a damn who your father is. All they will remember is that you took innocent lives. Is that who you want to be, Sebastian? A terrorist?"

Sebastian looked like he was going to be physically ill at Sheppard's words. "I'm not a terrorist?! I would not….I **love **my country…Atlantis…would die to protect them."

John fought back a sigh of relief at the kid's reply. "How about you live to protect them? Do what you know is right." Stepping closer, he lifted his hands up, toward Tudor's hand that was fisted around the grenade. "Let me have the grenade, Sebastian. You don't want to murder anyone."

For a beat, everyone froze, John, John's teammates, Carter, then Tudor choked out, "No I don't want to hurt anyone else." Hand trembling, Tudor lifted the grenade toward John's reaching hands, was terrified he wouldn't make the transition without releasing the pressure lever, trusted Sheppard to handle it right so they wouldn't die.

Trying not to spook the kid worse than he already was, John moved slowly, was about to circle Tudor's hand with his own when the transporter choose that poor timed moment to shower them with another round of sparks. Sparks singed into Tudor's arm causing him to jerk away in surprised pain….and clumsily lose his grip on the grenade.

In horror, the gathered audience watched as John tried to grab the falling grenade only for it to hit the ground before he could intercept it. It bounced two times then come to a teetering stop… on the very end of the buttresses. Five feet from the ledge, fifteen feet from the west tower's main structure and twenty stories above the water below, either way, if it exploded there, the damage would be nearly as catastrophic as if Tudor had stood there on the ledge and set it off. Still there was worse news: they were on a countdown of eight seconds until boom time.

"Everyone back!" Colonel Carter shouted as she started to run for the bend around the tower, hoping the Marines heard her and were already on the move. Noticing that the others on the ledge weren't moving, not Sheppard, not Lieutenant Tudor and not Sheppard's team, she barked to Tudor, "Lieutenant, move!" trusting Sheppard and his team's survival instincts to kick in soon without her prompting. They hadn't survived the Pegasus galaxy this long by being slow on the uptake of when to run for their lives.

John, knowing what he had to do, looked to his friends, his _family_, a millisecond in a wordless goodbye before he moved. He didn't bother with finesse, just dove down the buttress, hands outreached, his one and only goal to knock the grenade as far away from his family, from Atlantis, as he could before it went off. What happened to him after that, didn't matter, couldn't matter, only saving them mattered.

To his credit, it was the best slide home he'd ever done. As soon as he was in reach, he batted the grenade as hard as he could. Even as the grenade sailed into the air away from the tower, John's momentum had him sliding right off the buttress and plummeting toward the ground far below. Only then thinking of his own survival, he flung his hands out, tried to grab hold of the buttress but the marble ledge was already hopelessly out of his reach. Gravity really was a bitch.

As he fell he had two thoughts plaguing him: '_Please let the grenade not do too much damag_e' and _'I wish they weren't here to witness this.' _Because he had played the 'cashing it all in' card for the win before but there hadn't been spectators to watch. what would have been his heroic "death" in vivid color, if those previous incidents had all been misses. But today was turning out to be no miss, was the real thing and the spectators were the people he cared about most in the world, people he knew cared about him, still, regardless of how strained their relationships were. With unvarnished insight, he accepted the fact that it would hurt them to watch him die.

Having guessed Sheppard's intentions, Ronon was in motion a blink after John gave him that damn 'been nice knowing you' look. He watched with pride as John knocked the grenade ten feet away from Atlantis and gut wrenching horror as his friend slid right off the buttress, gave his all to save them. Using his long legs to advantage, Ronon made his own diagonal leap off the ledge, skidded off the end of the buttress moments after John disappeared over its edge with a shouted command of "Sheppard!" His call alerting John of his nearness, the falling Sheppard reached out his hand …and Ronon caught it in his own.

With Sheppard secure in his grip, Ronon flung his left hand up, praying for an anchor to keep them both from falling to their deaths. His fingers skimmed across the buttress edge but finally they found a purchase on the edge, bringing him and Sheppard to a painful but reassuringly jolting halt…right before the grenade exploded.

The concussion of heat hit the two dangling men in a wave, buffeting them like a kite caught in a strong wind. At the jarring, Ronon's fingers started to lose their grip on the buttress. Ronon roared out a protest as he realized he might have only delayed Sheppard's death for a few seconds. Didn't remorse it would mean his own death as well.

Stunned to see Sheppard dive out on the buttress and go over the edge even as he sent the grenade airborne, Sam hadn't been quick enough to hold Ronon back from suicidally going for Sheppard but she was able to catch Rodney's arm as he seemed intent to follow the Satedan's lead. But Rodney jerked out of her grip and Teyla flew by her as well hot on McKay's heels. Sam's stomach plummeted to her toes as she saw Ronon's own dive take him over the buttress and he dropped out of sight. It felt like hours instead of milliseconds before his hand came back into sight, caught the edge of the marble buttress. Before she could wonder if Ronon had managed to grab Sheppard, the tower rocked with the grenade's explosion.

Rodney stumbled but wasn't deterred from his path, practically did a belly flop out on the buttress that expanded over the yawn of open air to grab Ronon's arm and meanwhile pin the Satedan's slipping hand under his weight. McKay almost rolled right off the marble ledge at the maneuver before Teyla dropped down onto his legs, pressed him to the buttress.

When a hand grabbed his arm and a weight dropped onto his hand, pinned it to the buttress and effectively stopped his fingers from slipping, Ronon looked up, saw Rodney's face peering over the edge down at him and Sheppard. Then McKay latched both his hands around Ronon's bicep, his obvious and delusional intent to hold him and John up if Ronon's grip faltered. A second later, Teyla's face peeked over the edge down around Rodney's knees as if she had tackled McKay to keep him from joining the 'going over the edge' club.

Recognizing that the tower had shook but was still standing, that there wasn't acrid smoke of burning metal in the air, that the tower didn't seem to have sustained any critical damage, Sam could focus on the fate of four members of her expedition. Four crazy, suicidal, brave and fanatically loyal members. Turning, she saw the Marine contingent coming around the corner toward her. "We need some ropes!" she commanded, then she was in motion. Skidding to a halt at the lip of the ledge, she looked down, felt a moment of vertigo at the ominous drop to the water below but thankful saw proof that Ronon had caught Sheppard. However, the two men were precariously dangling above the fatal drop. Quickly determined that they were too far away for her to make a grab for either of them from her position on the ledge, she called out to them, "Hang on, we're getting ropes!"

Ronon looked down to John, their intertwined hands the only thing between Sheppard and certain death. "Hear that, Sheppard. Don't let go," he sardonically instructed.

Arm feeling like it was being pulled out its socket, John looked up at his rescuer. "I'm not really a holding hands kinda guy."

"Tough!" came from Rodney, who was unrepentantly eavesdropping on their conversation.

Teyla was about to join in the batter but feeling movement under her, she looked back to her legs, saw a crack had begun to make the buttress shift under her knee. "Colonel, the marble is cracking, it won't take our weight much longer!"

Sam was about to reply, thinking Emmagan was asking her for a solution but Sheppard answered, correctly knew that, even though he was the most helpless of them all right then, Teyla sought out his advice to save their lives.

"Guess we can't wait for that rope," John surmised like that wasn't another bit of news from hell. Looking up at Ronon as the man looked down at him, he offered up a solution, "So big guy, either you let me go…"

"Not happening," Ronon growled in denial even as McKay squawked, "He's not going to do that," coinciding with Teyla's shocked, "John, no!"

John conversationally continued as if they hadn't protested, "Or…I stop slacking off and start climbing. If you can swing me close to the wall…."

"Are you insane?!" Rodney hysterically cut across John's suggestion.

Before John could defend his plan, Ronon growled, "We're going with Plan C."

Meeting Ronon's eyes, John almost petulantly whined, "You sure we're down to that?" trusting that Ronon had already correctly figured out his plan C.

"Either you climb up me or we're all dead," Ronon bluntly stated, eyes holding John's telling the man that they were all in this together.

Catching onto the new plan John was dragging his feet putting into play, Rodney protested, "No, no, no! I do not want to do the whole Backdraft "you go, I go" thing! Start climbing already Sheppard!"

"Ah, crap, couldn't you reference Raiders of the Lost Ark when their bridge rope broke," John whined even as he swung his other hand up to grab a fist full of Ronon's shirt front, used that leverage to pull himself up even as Ronon lifted him up with their clasped grip. Then John coiled his left leg around Ronon's leg, and slid his arm around Ronon's chest and ended up with his face pressed to Ronon's back, getting a nice inhale of the Satedan's leather shirt. "We are _never_ talking about this…" he muttered, felt a blush burning up his cheeks at the ridiculous position he was in. Crap, what he endured to survive in the Pegasus Galaxy!?

"Stop whining and start climbing," Ronon groused, as he pulled John's hand, that he never let go of, up to rest on his shoulder. Once John's hand firmly gripped his collarbone and his arm stayed locked around his chest, Ronon used his liberated right hand to secure a two handed grip on the buttress. Then, without more prompting, John used him like a human ladder to ascend up to the buttress.

Pulling himself onto the buttress, John had to crawl over Rodney, then Teyla before tumbling hands and head first back onto the ledge of Atlantis' west tower. Almost instantly, he pushed himself up into a sit, had to helplessly watch from the sidelines while his friends tried to maneuver off the buttress in time. Ronon ordered Teyla and Rodney to get off the buttress, said he'd get back on it on his own. Trusting his abilities, Teyla slid back until she had her feet on solid ground, jerked on Rodney's ankle when the scientist seemed too frozen in terror to move for a moment. The rough handling broke McKay out of his stupor and he managed to awkwardly back his way off the buttress until he did an undignified butt collapse down onto the refuge of the ledge beside John. Then Ronon, good to his word, athletically swung his leg onto the buttress and pulled himself onto the length of it. He was crawling backwards when the buttress shuddered ominously under him.

"Ronon move it!" John commanded.

With that encouragement, Ronon pushed himself up with his hands, got his feet under him and propelled himself backwards like he was making a dive off a grunge stage and expected people to catch him. Instead of catching him, Rodney, at the realization that he was in Ronon's projected path, gave a squeal of panic and dove to the left and curled into a ball on the pavement, bracing to be smushed. Fearing that same fate awaited John, Teyla grabbed John by the shoulders and rolled him to the right on top of her. A beat later Ronon's 6' 4" bruising frame crashed, back first, onto the pavement right between Rodney and John. His safe landing coincided with the buttress breaking free and falling from the deadly altitude that Sheppard and his team had been spared.

Having looked back to see the marble support he and his team had been on only moments before drop out of sight, John rolled off Teyla, ended up with one shoulder on the ground and the other on top of Ronon's shoulder. "Crap that was too close," he raggedly breathed out, his relief siphoning off his adrenaline. Teyla pressed her forehead against the side of John's neck in equal measures of gratitude that John and her other teammates were still with her. "Yes, it truly was."

Flopping onto his back, Rodney grumbled, "I _know_ I pulled some muscles trying to hold onto Conan!" He didn't even care that Ronon's braids were bumpy under his head, might have if he realized the picture he made with Ronon's dreadlocks framing his head like a reggae Bob Marley wanna be wig. But then again, maybe he wouldn't, was just too relieved to be alive. To be able to lay still, breathe, revel in another death defying escape with John Sheppard that thankfully concluded without a 'in loving memory of' ending credit.

With Sheppard half on top of him, McKay smack against him and Teyla within easy reach, Ronon ruled that personal space was overrated. He had the people he loved best right there with him and they were safe, whereas seconds ago, that fate hadn't been looking real good. Reaching out, he patted John's chest without saying a thing, knew John would know all that the gesture meant: _glad you're not dead, good job saving us all, I had you buddy, wasn't letting go_.

Looking to Ronon, John gave his own silent rejoinder to his friend: _Thanks big guy. For saving me, saving the team and saving yourself._ Knew if it were anyone else with him today, Atlantis probably would have survived but he would be dead. That what Ronon risked…that Rodney and Teyla risked, it wasn't your run of the mill combat comradery, it was only the type of sacrifice, the level of desperation only those you loved evoked from you.

Reading John's comebacks like they were said aloud, Ronon smirked, recognized that the wall that had been between he and John the past weeks wasn't there now. '_Sure, we got here so easy. Only took Sheppard sacrificing himself right in front of us and us refusing to let him die to get us back to reading each other without words.' _Wondered when he had started adopting Rodney's sarcasm, probably about the time he learned to counter Teyla's banton stick moves and knew with certainty Sheppard would always do whatever was necessary to save as many lives as he could. Just as undoubtedly as he knew that Sheppard had a survival Plan C today and even what it would be.

'_And I was going to walk away from them, thought Tyre, Ara and Rakai could fill in the holes John and the others would leave in me when I left them behind. Damn, I was so blind.' _Because when he realized Sheppard was going for the grenade, watched him go over the edge, thought he might have truly lost him this time, he knew there would be no replacement for John's friendship, the brotherhood they shared. That had he followed through with his plans, left Atlantis and his team behind, he would have regretted it until the day he died, maybe nearly as badly as he regretted not being there to defend Satada. Because Satada and his Atlantis team, they were both home to him.

Numbly, Sam remanded Lt. Tudor into a Marine's capable presence before approaching the foursome sprawled out on the ground, piled nearly on top of each other like puppies. She couldn't think of words to express what they had done, what she had witnessed with her own eyes. They had each willingly sacrificed their lives, Sheppard to save Atlantis, Rodney, Ronon and Teyla to save Sheppard, all of them to save each other. There could no longer be any doubts to the loyalty, the bond the foursome shared. She had been a fool to assume she knew how they felt about each other, and much worse than a fool for nearly shattering the tightknit family apart.

She was about to point out that Sheppard was losing blood, that they needed to get him to medical when medical did a house call.

"Course it's you foursome involved in whatever shook the heck out of this tower and caused this transporter to not work," Dr. Beckett blustered in his brogue as, with medical bag hefted on his shoulder, he made a beeline for Sheppard's prone team on the ground. "Now who's hurt worse?"

In synch three voices answered, "Sheppard," even as Teyla scrambled to her feet so Carson could get to John's side. Meanwhile, Ronon, not wanting to jostle Sheppard, didn't move. And Rodney, he simply believed that he was still owed the reprieve of lying down after the traumatic happenings of a few minutes ago. Kneeling beside Sheppard, Carson didn't need further explanation, could see the blood and its source location. But did look incredulously at Sheppard when he discovered the wound: "A bullet wound?! You were shot?! Here on Atlantis?!"

Before John could give a flippant comeback, Rodney snarkily provided, "Yes, have you **met **Sheppard. His slogan is "I can find trouble anywhere, anytime, or your money back.""

"Rodney, shut up," John shot back in that jeering brotherly tone Rodney hadn't been a recipient of for weeks. Raising his head, John looked down to where Carson hovered, wanted a look at his bullet wound, assess the damage himself because it hurt like a mother.

Leaning up on his elbow, Rodney directed a smug pleased smile to Sheppard over Ronon's hulking form. "Let me guess, I can't propose slogans for you anymore than you let me name anything. By the way, they should be "gateships" not jumpers."

John pointed a finger at McKay. "I _knew_ you were behind that name. You just had Ford sell it off as his idea in case I didn't like it."

"Which you didn't because you're an egomaniac who thinks he's the only one who can name anything," Rodney accused.

"Me, an egomaniac? Coming from _you_?!" John incredulously replied before a wide cocky smile emerged on his face. "I'm taking that as a compliment."

"What?! It wasn't meant as one!" Rodney whined in an affronted tone.

Kneeling down on the tower's ledge by her friends, Teyla put a hand on John's shoulder and Ronon's and gave Rodney a joyful smile at his antics with Sheppard. Suddenly things felt…_natural_ between them, like they all were themselves again, not the strangers they had been apart. And she suddenly remembered acutely why she had missed the camaraderie so sorely and why she'd give her last breath to ensure it didn't slip through her fingers again.

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TBC

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Whew! All safe and sound. Much needed conversations ahead!

Love to my kind reviewers!

Have a great day!


	12. The Good Fight

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

Author's Notes: Hey I'm finally back with a new chapter! Sorry it took so long. I just struggled to get the conversations right in my head.

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Chapter 12: The Good Fight

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As his team helped and hovered as he was conveyed to the infirmary, it _felt_ like everything was back to the way it was..but John knew better. That nothing was or would be as it had been. Just like Elizabeth would not pop in to see him in the infirmary and try her hand at improving her terrible bedside manner. And as much as that hurt, her being lost to him, it hurt worse to know he'd soon be gone from this place. Elizabeth had gone down fighting…he couldn't hate her for that or he'd be the biggest hypocrite in two galaxies. But him?! He was buckling under like a world class coward, scampering away before he did worse damage to his found family. Like what had almost happened today.

Out of close calls, this was milliseconds from being the one that killed his entire team. And it was his fault, he didn't need to be reamed out by Colonel Carter to know that already. His mishandling of Tudor's disciplinary reassignment, his blindness to Tudor's possible reactions, his inability to take hold of the damn grenade before it went bouncing to the end of the ledge. How much time did he have after his reassignment letter zipped its way to IOA? Two weeks until the Daedalus got there or they ordered him through the gate and, **in the meantime**, he had managed to put all of Atlantis in jeopardy. Crap, Ronon was right to want off his team, had better survival instincts than to try and spend more fubur missions under his dubious leadership. And Teyla and Rodney, they might come off more sentimental but surely they knew continuing to follow him was a death sentence.

His dark ruminations were interrupted when Carson stopped fiddling with his leg and leaned down to meet his eyes. "Bullet's still in there so we'll do a small bit of surgery to remove it."

That didn't matter, bullet in there, bullet out, surgery, no surgery. Not like it'd matter if he had a limp the rest of his life…as soon as he got earthside, he was going to resign, would join the ranks of civilian life. A life he didn't even know how to live anymore. But he knew there were things that did matter, _had to matter_. "Lt. Tudor, he has burns too. Make sure he gets treated."

It wasn't what Carson thought John would say but then again, it didn't surprise him. Course the man would be more concerned with the minor injuries of the kid that held him hostage over his own serious wounds, that was just John Sheppard's way. "Yes, he'll be seen to, I'll make sure of it." Saw some tension slip from John's eyes but not all of it and he knew in his gut it wasn't concern over his surgery. Dropping a light hand to John's shoulder, he gave it a gentle reassuring pat but couldn't come up with any encouraging words he didn't think the man would scoff at, so he simply gave a small smile.

For John's part, he was glad Carson didn't resort to the old tried and true, 'everything will be fine' speech because he couldn't stomach that right then. And as they gave him anesthesia, he didn't count down from 100 waiting for oblivion to set in, instead he thought of the unpleasant conversations to come with his former teammates about his reassignment request. It shouldn't have surprised him that his father came to mind, not after all the comparisons he'd made between his father and Tudor's. He could practically hear his father's words crowding into his head about his intentions to resign his commission:

"_So the great and moral Air Force finally disappointed you. And what benefits are you taking away from this holy rebellion of yours? __Besides__ scars and so very much blood on your hands? You never wanted to hear what a mistake you were making and now when you know how right I've been…don't think you can come crawling back for a part of the family legacy you threw away."_

But his father didn't have to worry about that happening, he'd hunker down in some alley as a hobo before begging the old man for even food from his trashcan. That thought had John smirking, '_Seems like I still have some pride left.' _But on its heels he accused,_ '__**Hurt**__ pride is what's gotten you on a one way ticket off Atlantis. You just couldn't accept that Ronon would be better off away from you, that Carter had seen things right, that her not trusting you…she wasn't as off base as you prayed she was.' _Those hard truths followed him into the dark as the anesthesia took him under.

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For a cowardly second, Colonel Samatha Carter considered ordering a security officer to join her before she spoke to Sheppard's former teammates. She had seen Ronon's anger in action on her first day on Atlantis, fought back a shudder of how he might react today to hearing about her part in the dismantling of Sheppard's team. _'Come on, you're a colonel now, the leader of Atlantis, you don't get to cower behind muscled armed bodyguards when you have to face up to the consequences of your actions_,' she coached herself as she pulled back her shoulders and entered the infirmary.

She found Sheppard's team where she knew she would: all three of them obstinately sitting in the spare chairs in the infirmary and refusing to budge until they heard that Sheppard would be ok. '_And you seriously couldn't put this together before, how attached they were to Sheppard? You needed them to literally jump off a cliff after him to open your eyes?! You were never going to replace him in their eyes, and now…after you tell them what you told Rodney…you'll be lucky if they ever obey an order from you.' _

And if that happened…the rest of Atlantis would follow their lead. Heck, Major Lorne was already hesitating to obey her and she'd bet he was going off gut instincts and the tension between herself and Sheppard. If he too learned how she had mishandling things…if Sheppard followed through on his intentions and left Atlantis. The fallout would be devastating. Just like Jack had tried to warn her before she arrived. John Sheppard was the linchpin here. '_And I didn't want it to be true, wanted everyone to look to me to lead them_.' But you couldn't order someone to have faith in you…you had to prove it was justified, had to _deserve _it.

'_Instead you proved you __didn't__ deserve it, great job, Sam. Now suck it up and get this over with_.' Squaring her shoulders she approached the threesome in the chairs. "I need a word privately with all three of you," she bluntly ordered as she jerked her head to the hallway and the conference room across the way.

None of one of them made a move to rise from their chairs, to obey even this simple command of hers. Teyla assigned herself spokesperson for her team. "Colonel Carter, can we not give our debriefing at a later time, once we know John is well?"

As much as Sam wanted to delay the inevitable she knew she shouldn't, couldn't. Her eyes skimmed over to Rodney, silently asking for his help.

With a put upon sigh, Rodney drawled with a ring of bitterness, "Trust me, you want to hear what she has to say."

Then he got up, headed out the door and to Sam's surprise, Teyla and Ronon followed his lead, trusted Rodney McKay in ways they would never trust her. And that was a revelation, that Rodney was now someone that others put their faith in, so very different than the man she met years back whose brilliance earned respect but his personality garnered a disinclination for people to spend time with him. Atlantis had changed him…and to Rodney's own belief, John Sheppard had changed him.

Following them out of the infirmary to the conference room, Sam felt a cold chill down her spine at the idea she might be sealing her own fate in the next moments. That she might be the one leaving Atlantis in the near future. That her wrong assumptions, her ego, they would cost her more than respect from her Atlantis expedition, might implode her career. She wished she could blame Sheppard, but she had done that enough and look where that had gotten her. It was time to accept the consequences of her actions, to finally be the good leader Atlantis and Sheppard and his team needed her to be.

The last one to enter the conference room, she closed the door, eyed up the threesome, Rodney and Teyla had claimed chairs while Ronon paced like a caged animal. Before she could speak, Ronon did.

"You can't accept Sheppard's reassignment," he didn't even pretend that his words weren't threats.

Calmly, Sam replied, "I just learned about his intentions a few minutes before you did." She didn't get a chance to say more when Rodney interjected.

"Course she's not going to accept it," he snapped to Ronon, like it was ludicrous for Ronon to even think she would. But then he pierced her with his angry glare. "But you're stalling…."

Pinching her mouth shut, she swallowed down the anger before bluntly laying her cards on the table. "Colonel Sheppard broke up your team at my orders."

It was like she donated that grenade again…right there in the room, leaving a terrible soundlessness in its wake. All eyes were on her, Rodney's not shocked but re-stoked anger, Teyla's held confusion and Ronon's… gathering incense. He spoke first, his voice rumbled with barely held back rancor. "What are you saying?"

Putting her hands behind her back in stiff military stance, Sam confessed, "Ronon, I was the one who removed you from Sheppard's team." Didn't try to qualify her reasons, would be a waste of breath especially since her reasons were wholly unjustified anyway.

Ronon didn't react as she predicted he would, didn't come at her with anger but stepped back away from her, from his team, growled lowly from the other end of the room with self-hatred, "Because I almost left…because you didn't trust me!"

That claim, at least, Sam could defend herself against. "No, it wasn't out of mistrust. It was…" she gave into hesitation before admitting, "…I thought you wanting to leave Atlantis…it meant you were unhappy on Sheppard's team. That if Sheppard continued to force you to remain on his team, you would get resentful…careless with the performance of your duties."

Ronon's head snapped up in unhidden shock, the same emotion transforming Teyla's features meanwhile McKay looked like he wanted to shake his head in that 'you poor dumb idiot' expression he used on his subordinates. "I did what I thought was best for all involved," she stiffly declared, and that was the truth, she had thought she was right, her insight was infallible.

"Best?!" Ronon thundered and Sam flinched in surprise but held her ground when Ronon used his long legs to eat up the distance between them, towered over her, fists clenched at his side and eyes dark with fury. "You **don't** know me! What it cost me to decide to leave Atlantis…Sheppard's team…my home since Sateda has fallen. And I would _**never**_ be reckless with my team's lives!"

Quietly but unblinkingly she repudiated his declaration. "You used Sheppard's loyalty _to you_ to get him to risk his life and that of his teammates to go on that wraith ship. That seemed pretty reckless to me. I couldn't trust Sheppard to not give you more free passes out of his loyalty to you."

Ronon looked gutted by her words, stood there pale and quiet, recriminations running through his head.

Rodney however, had no problem finding words. "Oh right! How noble..you doing all this to _**protect **_Sheppard," he scathingly retorted. Then, coming out of his chair, he shouldered in front of Ronon to be in her face. "You say "_protect_" I say you did it to screw Sheppard over until he has his freaking reassignment letter typed and ready to go!"

Stiffly she conceded, "I admit, things escaladed…"

"Escaladed," Rodney barked out. "How PC a word for you screwing us all over." Turning to Teyla, he explained, "She did such a good job screwing up John's mind that he _believed _Ronon hated being on his team, was only agreeing to stay on his team so he wouldn't get kicked out of Atlantis. No surprise really that that led to Sheppard getting the brainy idea to cut you and me free too and boot us all off his team."

Heatedly, Sam snapped, "I didn't want that."

"For him to feel like a terrible leader and a tyrant?! Why do I doubt that," Rodney darkly challenged.

"NO! I did what I thought was best for Atlantis!" Sam insisted, knew her own ego trip was mixed in there too but at the heart of it, she had believed 100% it was the right move to make.

Teyla spoke for the first time, her tone not harsh but almost understanding, "But you started to doubt that belief. That was why you came and talked to me…to see if I was satisfied leading my own team…being off John's team."

Glad for a meager show of compassion for her position from Teyla, Sam composed herself, tried to not sound as defensive with her next words. "Yes I saw…" her look encompassed all three of Sheppard's teammates, "…you were all struggling. And, this Atlantis expedition, from all I had heard, was supposed to be this force of nature…strong enough to bear whatever came its way but there was tension everywhere and I thought it was because of Dr. Weir….being gone, that it would just take some time for people to trust me."

Ronon gave Rodney a weak but effective shove aside so he could again be face to face with Carter and pointed an accusing finger at her. "You talk about us trusting you but you let me believe that I had lost Sheppard's trust…had to try and re-earn it. You let me be pissed at him for kicking me off his team."

"It wasn't supposed to be a secret that it was my decision to remove you from the team but Sheppard…" Sam began but Teyla provided the conclusion.

"He took the blame for your actions."

Sam nodded before verbalizing, "Yes and I don't know why…"

"Same reason he took the blame for me putting the nanites in Elizabeth," Rodney interjected before his fondness for Sheppard softened his tone. "He protects people…even when they don't deserve it, even when the consequences to him are brutal," speaking for himself in that moment as much as for Carter. But his next accusation was all for Sam. "Course maybe you didn't read far enough in your cracker jack psychology book to cover "hero complex" disorders that should have a picture of John Sheppard as a textbook example." Having said his piece, he stormed out of the conference room and made a beeline for the infirmary.

Sam watched silently as Teyla, without a word, followed in McKay's wake leaving her to face off with the towering figure of Ronon. Sam was wishing that she did had a security officer in the wings at that momen, now that it was just the two of them. But when she was brave enough to face him, Ronon's expression surprised her, wasn't tight with fury any longer, instead was marred with sorrow and his voice conveyed that painfully well.

"He believed you, didn't he? That I was unhappy on his team, wanted to lead my own team. Was partly leaving because I thought he'd never let me stay on Atlantis if I wanted off his team? That we were all better off without him?"

It was not the questions she thought she'd have to answer, was not the insight she ever expected from the volatile Satedan. Had her reassessing Sheppard's reasons for capitulating to her order, for letting her implode his team, his _family_. For him doing the rest of the damage she didn't by removing McKay and Emmagon from his team. When she answered, it wasn't with a tone of smug satisfaction of being vindicated but was one of matching sorrow, "It's the only logical reason he would cut himself off from three people who loved him enough to dive off a building after him."

Ronon's eyes flared with fury and his fist flew out, not at her but to the right as he swiveled, put his fist through the glass wall of the conference room shattering it. Blood dripping from his hand, he brushed by her and went to the infirmary, not to get his injured hand tended to but to be there when they got news about his wounded superior…no, Sam knew better. Sheppard wasn't just Ronon's superior, he was his _brother_. Just like he was Rodney's and Teyla's.

She bit her lip, wanting to suddenly breakdown. When had she become someone who tore a family apart? When had she become so hardhearted and blind?! Jack would be ashamed of her, heck she was ashamed of her. And if Elizabeth Weir were here to see what she'd done in her stead…Sam thought she might put aside her diplomatic mindset and punch her for good measure.

Walking out of the conference room, she couldn't help that her eyes steeled their way into the infirmary, saw Rodney, Teyla and Ronon gathered around Dr. Beckett. Knew the news on Sheppard was good when Ronon gave Carson's shoulder a proud squeeze, Teyla smiled and Rodney huffed out, "Well sure he's going to be fine. We did the hard part you just had to plug up the leak in his leg." Then she made herself head down the hallway, back to her office, to the view of the control center and stargate that should be enviable to anyone but felt like she was merely a spectator to wonders she wasn't worthy to be part of any longer.

Opening her computer session, she sought out the thoughts of the last person who had occupied that very chair: Elizabeth Weir.

"_I don't know why I'm writing this down, especially considering it's a highly classified mission and only a handful of people will have the clearance to read any of this. I guess it's for my own sake, most of all. To remember what it was like to be a part of something both terrifying and electrifying, new and yet the fight against this evil was so very old. To remember what it felt like to have a family who would die for you, who I would sacrifice everything to save."_

"_Maybe that's at the heart of why I'm writing this, not about the greatest adventure mankind has known but the best part mankind has to offer, the goodness that shines through at the darkest moments. And that journey really began when some pretty flyboy I vouched for got into my face and challenged me that if we weren't going to try and rescue our captured people we should turn tail and pack up. That, consequences be damned, trying to save them was the right thing to do. And John Sheppard was right…no matter the fallout of his actions, he did the right thing. Set the tone for our expedition that we do not leave our people behind. That no matter what it costs us, we do not stop fighting the good fight to save all we can."_

"_And I want someone to know, to believe that we did not stop that fight, did not wish to abandon the Pegasus galaxy, that it was not our choice. That those we respected, even idolized, the Ancients, let their egos come before their obligation to protect their galaxy. Forced us from the battle and I…and so many others feel bereft at the loss of our home in Atlantis and shamed we did not, could not finish the fight we sacrificed so much trying to win."_

Sitting back in her chair, Sam felt herself choked up. Elizabeth Weir had finished her fight, sacrificed her very life for the people she loved best. But John Sheppard was going to walk away, seemingly willingly from the fight, not because he didn't have the fortitude to continue but because she had brainwashed him into thinking he was not needed in the fight, was useless. Worse, a _detriment_ in the battle, as much as Lt. Tudor was with his clumsiness and short temper.

And as much as Sam knew about struggling to win, to survive, to defeat evil before it destroyed more than she could lose, she didn't know what it felt like to give up that fight, be forced to accept failure, to be told to run along home like they were errant children with sticks and stones in a warzone. To be told they were inconsequential, useless, that all their efforts, the friends, family they had lost were in vain. She found herself sympathizing with that pain. And Sheppard had been through that, not just with the Pegasus galaxy but once before when he had gotten deep sixed to being a measly copter chauffeur in Antarctica, everything trying to tell him that his fight for lives, his sacrifices meant nothing. And heartlessly, she had done it to him again, made him believe that lie.

With sharp clarity she knew she could not..would not let him walk away from the fight that meant so much to him. A fight that needed him, would wither and die without his stubborn will to win, his crazy do or die plans, his resolve to do he could to not leave a person behind and his innate ability to lead a path through the dark giving hope that there was light ahead. She finally understand that he wasn't a threat to her leadership of Atlantis, instead all he ever wanted was to be its fiercest protector, to save all he could in the expedition and in the galaxy, that he was geared to fight until every last threat was gone. The only foe he bowed to was insecurity of how very loved and trusted and needed he was. A foe she had used against him and now had to do her part in vanquishing, well her and three very pissed but determined siblings hovering around the infirmary wanting to get their chance to gather at their brother's side.

John Sheppard didn't know it now but, he wasn't going anywhere. He was right where he was meant to be.

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TBC

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Thanks for those who stuck around while I struggled to get this chapter written!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	13. Duty & Drowning

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

Author's Note: See, this story isn't dead and neither am I! Sorry for the delay but with the holidays and January changes at work it's taken me some time to figure out how to get this story rolling again. Thanks for everyone who's still willing to tune in after the long wait for an update!

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Chapter 13: Duty & Drowning

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Apparently there was a universal truth in _every_ galaxy and that was there was absolutely no rest for the weary. Certainly the Pegasus galaxy didn't _care_ that John's three teammates had been waiting impatiently for Carson to determine that it was ok to move their friend from the recovery area to a bed where they could visit with him, that they had personal hurts that desperately needed healing. No, the galaxy would still demand their priority, would call them to duty. And it was a very safe bet that the Wraith that ambushed Major Lorne's team and would call John's teammates away, they would have reveled loudly had they been aware their actions inflicted emotional pain to Atlantis's top gate team

Teyla almost forgot she had her communicator still on her when it squawked. Raising it to her ear, she answered the call, her two teammates watching her face for giveaways as they flanked her in the infirmary chairs. When Colonel Carter's voice came through the communication, Teyla felt herself stiffening, because, as much as she tried very hard to understand the colonel's actions when Carter had confessed her part in their team's dissolution, the other woman had dealt them all a deep betrayal. And had caused unmitigated hurt to John. That wasn't something she wasn't likely to forgive and forget easily. "Yes Colonel?" her voice clipped, formal even as she tried to not let it drop into frigidness.

"I'm sorry but something's come up. Major Lorne's team has been attacked. We need your team to gate out to back them up," Colonel Carter ordered, her tone giving no indication she feared her order wouldn't be obeyed, regardless of her strained relationship with the threesome.

"My team…" Teyla began, wasn't sure which "team" Carter was referencing, her new one or her old one.

"You, Dex and McKay," Carter clarified. As much as it did Teyla's heart good to hear Carter refer to them as a 'team', the colonel's orders were not welcome. "Is there really no one else that can go?"

There was a pause before a tentative, maybe even worried inquiry came back. "I thought Colonel Sheppard was out of danger?"

"He is," Teyla slowly admitted, even as she knew it was sealing her fate to leave John's side before he woke. Knowing John would expect her to do her duty, not sit on her hands waiting just to see him, she begrudgingly conceded. "We will be there…."

Hearing the "we" in Teyla's pledge, Rodney grabbed the communicator, "When Teyla said "we" that's not including me on whatever this is! Because I'm not assigned to a gate team anymore."

"Sorry, but yes, it does include you, Rodney," Carter stridently countered. "When Lorne's team retreated from the wraith attacked, they inadvertently tripped the Ancient perimeter weapon and it has assessed them as enemies as much as the Wraith."

"Of course they tripped it," Rodney grumbled. Resigned to his fate, he handed the communicator back to Teyla and stood up but didn't head out the door when he realized his two teammates weren't likewise standing.

Teyla looked to Ronon, uncertain if he would object to leaving John, would even follow any orders coming from Colonel Carter. But after a moment of silence, Ronon grimly nodded because he knew Sheppard would order them to go if he were there, would try to go _himself_ no matter the condition he was presently in. That when Sheppard wasn't there, couldn't lead the charge, he trusted his team to act in his stead. Well, _used_ to trust his team to do his wishes, before Carter poisoned John's faith in their fealty to him.

Coming to his feet, Ronon gave a forlorn glance to the recovery area where John was before turning to his teammates. "I'll meet you at the gate." Then he left the infirmary at a jog.

"I'll tell Carson we've got to go," Rodney self-assigned, heading into the bowels of the infirmary. He found his friend consulting with a nurse. "Sorry to interrupt Beckett but we have to go…"

"Go?!" Carson repeated in astonishment, never seeing the day before when Sheppard's teammates left the infirmary before verifying with their own eyes that Sheppard was well.

"Mission," Rodney snapped with ill humor. "Wraith are attacking Major Lorne's team who triggered an Ancient booby-trap and apparently can't turn it off," disdain at their incompetency ringing in his words.

But Carson had come to learn how to read between McKay's snippy tones. That the man tended to go on a tear when he was most worried about something. Or _someone_, which yes, most times he was worried about _himself_, but there were exceptions…like John Sheppard and his other teammates. He also realized that there was guilt hueing his friend's features. "Right. I can see why you, Teyla and Ronon need to go," hoping to assuage his friend's unwarranted shame at having to go off and save lives.

However Rodney's features creased in worry. "But he's….Sheppard's…he's out of danger, right? Just being a lazy bones. He's not…I won't miss…he'll be ….here…."

Knowing what was driving his friend's stuttering questions, Carson gentled gave Rodney's shoulder a squeeze. "He's stable and there were no complications with the surgery. He'll be here waiting for you when you get back, Rodney."

Rodney suddenly felt foolish for his hand wringing, tried to deflect, "Yeah sure…I know that. I'm just…" But at Carson's nonjudgmental expression, he bit out, "If feels…wrong…disloyal, to leave him."

It was usual for Rodney to be so open about his feelings and Carson sought to not belittle the trust his friend was putting in him. "I think in the scheme of things, you being willing and nearly succeeding in jumping off the tower to save him has earned you a boat load more friendship points than you being here when he wakes up. And we both know Sheppard's always willing to grade on a curve for his friends."

Rodney really wanted to accept Carson's logic but too many things were unknown variables. "Yeah but…things…have been…different. I don't know….we might not be….I mean I still consider us friends but….he believed someone….something he shouldn't and it's ….."

"You'll work it out, Rodney. I've seen the ways you've changed since we came to Atlantis. The old Rodney would have let selfish pride come before anything else but I've seen you humble yourself to re-earn Sheppard's respect, risk your life to save his, be there for him when he didn't need a scientist but instead needed a friend."

"I'm not sure if I feel more insulted or proud of myself…" Rodney groused with a tongue in cheek remark that Sheppard would get but blew right by Carson.

Ignoring Rodney's comment, Carson imparted his insight, "But one thing about you hasn't changed: when you're right and you know it, you don't pussy foot around. You bowl everyone else over with your opinion until we have to try things your way. That's how I know that whatever's been going on with Sheppard, you won't quit on him, won't stop until he accepts that what Rodney McKay has calculated is undisputable truth is the only right answer."

Rodney had to give into a smug smile. "I am pretty stubborn that way aren't I?"

"Stubborn is one way to describe it. Now go off and I'll take care of Colonel Sheppard," Carson lighthearted replied.

Rodney took a few steps for the door before turning around, demanded of Carson, "You'll tell him I gave you the look, right?"

"The look?" Carson asked with confusion.

"Yeah, the Sheppard look. The "I hate to leave but duty calls so I'm trusting you to take care of him in my absence' look," Rodney clarified.

Carson smirked before teasingly drawling, "Oh _that_ look."

"Just shut up …and…" Rodney began but his friend knew what he needed to hear.

"No harm will come to him while you're gone," Carson vowed, knew that it would take nothing less than that blanket pledge to ease his friend's mind.

Rodney snorted at it all the same. "You have no idea how difficult a vow you just made… but I'm totally holding you to it." Then Rodney made his exit from the infirmary with a lighter step than his earlier half measure attempt at departing had contained.

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John woke with a sore throat, a dry mouth and utterly alone.

He felt the absence of the one chair in his vicinity with an intensity of loss that made him feel nine ways a pathetic fool. For so many years he had been alone, had no one backing him up, knew his death would barely generate a moment's sadness for his dad and his brother, that his ex-wife would accept that things ended for him as she always said they would: him being alone.

When had he become used to not being alone, to not only that single chair beside his infirmary bed being filled but two others? Realized with something akin to surprise that it had been _years_ since he had woken up alone in the infirmary, without someone taunting him for stop milking his injury, worriedly inquiring how he was feeling or a large hand holding his head while he took a sip of water to sate his just-waking-up-from-surgery thirst.

But he didn't blame his normal visitors for finally wising up and bailing on him. It wasn't like he didn't _deserve_ to be alone. It was his fault they had almost all died today, because he couldn't manage to stop blindly comparing Tudor to himself, refused to see the kid as a threat…any more than he wanted to really cut deep enough into his soul to concede that he was a threat. To anyone who got close, to anyone who dared to care about him, that he came to care about. To anyone stupid enough to follow him into the hell storms he willingly walked into because he needed to believe he was the good guy, was going to save someone, itched to earn a win even if it was in a losing war.

No, he should be grateful to be alone, that they were finally seeing the light. That they were realizing that he wasn't worth all they had risked for him, had almost lost their very lives just hours ago because of him! And not just their lives, every life in Atlantis had been in danger from a kid that John should have disarmed before the first shot, heck, long before things got to the shooting, grenade waving (dropping) escapades. What had happened to his gut instincts, his ability to sense danger, to be someone you could trust when the crap was hitting the fan?!

'_No wonder Ronon saw a way to bail from Atlantis, from me, and tried to take it.'_ Ronon was a survivor after all. But that didn't mesh well with the idiot who leaped off the tower after him, risked the long fall to save him. A survivor would have accepted that John was a goner. Wouldn't have risked his life on a game already lost. '_Great, now I've corrupted Ronon, passed on my foolish 'we can save everyone' fairy tale tendencies to him._'

It made it all the better that he was leaving, could no longer contaminate them with his ill-fated ideals. Enough people had died because of his misconceptions that there weren't consequences to wanting to save a life. That sometimes, to save lives, you had to let someone die, had to take a life to spare agony and save a world, that sometimes, the kindest thing you could do, was to let go. What Ronon refused to do today but John had to. He had to let go, let them go, the family he had here, the place that after searching his entire life was the embodiment of _home_ to him. For his friends' sake, for Atlantis's sake, so he wouldn't undo the good they'd done in the Pegasus galaxy, that Elizabeth had done. Because as sure as an albatross was a very good thing in golf, him staying on Atlantis was a bad thing, him staying with them…it would only break him apart in the end. Because it couldn't last, hadn't lasted, was crumbling under his feet when he left Elizabeth behind, when Ronon sought to leave, when Carter made him see what he refused to. That his time in Atlantis was over, that with Elizabeth gone, there was no one there to defend him against the IOA, that they had wanted him gone since they had reopened the gate to Earth. Knew what he had done to gain his military commander standing in Atlantis, that his actions had kicked off a war, had put Earth in danger.

It was a miracle he hadn't been tossed in a military prison or a black site and been written off for the rest of his life.

No, not a miracle…Elziabeth Weir. She had vouched for him, fought for him…believed in him.

And where did that get her? Left behind…used….killed by the replicators.

John closed his eyes, could still see her there, telling him…ordering him to go. She had taken a page from _his_ book, that was _his_ move. That was supposed to be his heroic ending, never hers. But then again, he wasn't really the hero of the story, she was, the survivors in the Pegasus galaxy like Teyla and Ronon were, Rodney and Radek and Carson who volunteered to come to this galaxy, ached to do good, they were the heroes. Him?! He was here because of some fluke in his genes, some dumb coincidence of right place, right time, because of a flip of a coin. Like the old saying 'If you can't be good, be lucky" and he had been. Lucky to share this awful, terrifying, soul crushing yet electrifying, exhilarating, and as demented as it sounded, most fulfilling, and happiest journey with the best people he'd ever known, ever dared to love.

Crap but he felt himself holding back tears. He wasn't this, wasn't the emotional guy. Didn't have _feelings,_ no matter what Teyla said. He was a guy's guy, didn't talk about things, didn't get choked up, didn't get sentimental. Well, hadn't since he had let go once…no, twice before. When his mother had died…and when he had walked away from his family and his father's expectations of him.

So maybe that the catalyst: walking away, letting go. Maybe he was always going to lose his crap when he abandoned everything he knew, left behind the people he loved best. Even if it was because he loved them. He knew he would rather bear the pain of walking away than getting them killed, watching them sacrifice their lives for him, like Elizabeth had, like Donecker had, like Ronon, McKay and Teyla almost did today.

But rationalizing it all, it didn't make it hurt any less, the being alone, losing them, not to death but to his own decisions. Fact was, he had been working toward this goal for weeks now: To be alone, to cut himself off from them, to become accustomed to life without their presence. That was his future after all. And he had better get used to it or else, the ache of their loss, it would utterly drown him.

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TBC

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More to come…just taking me some time to piece it all together into the happy ending I want.

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	14. Unsolicited Pep Talks

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

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Chapter 14: Unsolicited Pep Talks

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John was awakened by bustling of activity and voices. Though there was a curtain portioning him off from the rest of the infirmary, he knew the sound of incoming trauma patients, had been among their numbers too often not to. Leaning over as far as he could in the bed without toppling out, he pushed back the curtain, saw the brunette nurse, Maggie Elsen, who had been with Carson when he had cornered him after the "dormant" hive ship fiasco. "What's happened?"

"Sgt. Kressers' team got caught in an avalanche. Luckily there are no fatalities," Maggie reported but there was only partial relief in her eyes and he knew why as she continued. "But with Major Lorne's team also under attack off world, sorry but it's going to be a noisy place here for the next few hours, Colonel Sheppard." But a second later, she paled and hissed out an "oh crap," because her tongue always got her in trouble.

"Attack," John repeated in stunned surprised before he demanded, "Why wasn't I notified?" even as he realized that hadn't been up to the nurse. Felt a thread of coldness seep into his soul as he knew whose choice it was to keep him out of the loop about _his_ off world teams: Colonel Carter's. Crap but she had already removed him as military leader of Atlantis. He was indignant of that until he realized, heck, his transmission would have gone through to the IOA hours ago, when the new day began. So by now, Carter knew he had put in for a reassignment. '_She probably did a jig knowing she was getting rid of me. What she's wanted all along.'_

Though Maggie had heard the Colonel speak testily to Dr. Beckett, it was a little frightening to have the Air Force Officer's angry tone directed at her. She stammered, "I am sorry, Colonel, you were in the surgery recovery area when the initial reports came in about Major Lorne's team. And then …with news of the avalanche…we were advised to not notify you of either team's trouble when you woke up."

John's jaw clenched as he muttered, "You mean ordered by Colonel Carter."

Maggie gave a confused tilt of her head. "Colonel Carter? No, those were Dr. Beckett's orders, sir. He threatened to give the graveyard shift for three months straight to anyone who leaked info to you and got you upset. He didn't want you to worry about your teams. Well, until it was impossible to keep the situation from you and a room full of injured gate personnel is hard to keep under wraps." But then she bit her lip because she had seen, first hand, how protective Beckett was of the Colonel, assuring that the doctor's threat, it hadn't been a jest. "And then I spilled the beans about Major Lorne's team and your team going in to help them. Crap but I hate the graveyard shift and now I'll be …."

"My team?" John cut across her bemoaning with a quiet lethalness. And he honestly wasn't sure what he wanted less, for her to mean his team of screwups …or his real team. Either way he should be out there to back them up, to help Lorne and his team. But a snide inner voice reminded him, '_You gave up the right to play hero, to ride to anyone's rescue. Your reassignment request sealed that deal. No more assuaging for your sins. The final tally is in stone now.'_

Feeling wholly out of her depth with the Colonel's displeasure and his questions, Maggie nervously offered, "I'm really not the one to ask. But there's a Lieutenant who's been waiting to see you. I'm sure he can answer all your questions," then she hastily bolted away.

"Good John. Scare people. Nice," John muttered to himself as he sank back onto the bed, ran a hand down his face, felt like tearing out the IV when it slapped him in the face with his movement. Detecting footfalls of combat boots heading his direction and knowing he was about to get company, John shifted higher in the bed, fought back a grimace as his leg sent a live wire of pain through his body at the movement and his arm ached. But he schooled his features to give no hints of his discomfort when the Lieutenant entered his curtained off area.

He recognized the man instantly as one of Ronon's teammates. Before he could address him, the Marine was snapping him a formal salute and stiffening up his stance like he was standing before a General instead of a down and out, soon-to-be-relieved-of-command Lt. Colonel. "At ease, Lt. Dreshman. Do you have an update for me on Major Lorne's team?" Left unsaid: '_And my own team, the one I have no right to still think of as mine?'_

The Marine seemed genuinely shocked by the colonel's question. "Ah…no, sir. No updates."

"Then why are you here, Lieutenant?" John snapped back, wondered if Carter had ordered the Marine to guard him, like he was a hostile, disgruntled former employee they needed escorted off the premises before he went postal. '_Like Tudor_.' Ok, when thinking of what the kid had done, maybe Carter had a point in not risking another postal instance.

"Specialty Dex, sir," the lieutenant announced, as if that was in anyway an answer.

"I know the man," John smart mouthed back, and waved his hand at the kid to continue, to get to the point.

The Marine somehow managed to get his posture even more rigid. "He ordered me to be here when you woke up." But then it occurred to Dreshman that he was in a bad situation, that it wasn't the honor he had thought it was, guarding the heroic Lt. Colonel. That it just might be a career ender.

John was honestly stumped at Ronon's motivations for sic'ing his underling on him "What exactly are your orders?"

Dreshman shuffled on his feet, cursed Dex and felt humiliated when his voice cracked like he was fourteen again when he spoke. "His exact orders, sir?" delaying the inevitable.

Knowing Ronon's laconic form of communication, John drawled, "I doubt it contained too many words for you to remember it all."

"No sir, I remember," Dreshman admitted before he cleared his throat and probably sealed his fate to be earthbound when the Daedalus docked at Atlantis. "Specialty Dex ordered me to not let you leave the infirmary unless you had Dr. Beckett's explicit permission. That if you snuck out under my watch I'd…" he broke off there, didn't think he should repeat Dex's highly unprofessional threat to Dex's superior officer.

The kid's mission wasn't anything that John had expected. A mission Ronon had assigned him. More in amusement, he pressed, "If I snuck out under your watch, then what?"

The soldier paled. "I don't wish to get my superior officer in trouble." Then realizing his mistake, he stammered, "No, I mean, I know you are my superior officer…everyone's superior officer. I…"

John broke into the Marine's sucking up. "Spill it Dreshman. What did Dex threatened you with?"

Dreshman sighed, knew there was no way around any of this. "He said I'd be in worse shape than you are if I let you go AWOL from the infirmary while he was gone."

John felt off kilter, like he had gone back in time, before he had broken up his team, before Ronon wanted to leave Atlantis, before everything between him and Ronon had fractured apart. Back when it felt like they'd always have each other's backs, were brothers in a sense he and his own flesh and blood brother Dave never were. Hoarsely he ordered, "You're dismissed Lt."

But the Marine didn't move, instead paled. "You don't….you're not ordering me…I have to stay here…with you. I can't…Dex won't…"

And it was almost funny and partway ego bruising that this Marine was more afraid of Ronon's wraith than that of the military commander of Atlantis. Having pity on the kid, he relented, "Fine, you don't have to leave the infirmary. After all, I'd hate to see Ronon take a bite out of you."

The Lieutenant physically relaxed, gushed, "Thank you sir. I'll …you won't know I'm even here...will be…out there…unless you need…."

But the offer had John's mind spinning. "Actually I do need you to do something. Get an update about Major Loren's team."

"Sir, yes, sir," Dreshman readily agreed. Then he was gone, intent on his mission to earn some brownie points back from Colonel Sheppard.

Alone again, John tried to explain away Ronon's actions because him trying to jet out of the infirmary under Beckett's radar, it didn't threaten the security of Atlantis, wasn't life or death stakes, wasn't even a military concern. And Ronon was off world confronting a Wraith contingent harassing Lorne's team so Dex shouldn't have even spared a _thought_ about him, let alone be worrying about something trivial like him doing a jail break from the infirmary.

Ronon shouldn't be worried about him _at all_. They were on the outs, were splitting up, going their separate ways, had _gone_ their separate ways for the past few weeks. They were no longer gate team leader and subordinate, no longer officers that sparred together, no longer friends who had lunch together. He was no longer Ronon's responsibility, the man had paid all outstanding debts yesterday with the whole saving him from doing a header into the base of Atlantis at a 100 mph. '_Whatever I do now, it's all on me, no one else_.' He was no longer under Ronon's protection, even Dex's overblown protective mindset had to realize that.

'_Yeah, right. This is the guy who was going to leave Atlantis to protect his long lost Satedan friends_.' For maybe the first time, John was getting that Ronon had believed that, wanted that: not to lead Tyre and the others but to protect them. That that was Ronon's core: to protect the ones he cared about. _'And for some stupid reason, he stills cares about you. Still wants to protect you. The big idiot.'_

Nurse Elsen bustled back into his curtained off section, breaking him out of his thoughts. He noted she had a syringe in her hand. "Whoa, whoa, what's that for?"

Having been briefed by Dr. Beckett of the objection the Colonel would make if she out and out told him, Maggie bypassed answering Sheppard, instead stuck the needle in the IV line and administered it. Then she put on her best kind nurse I'm-doing-this-to-help-you smile and replied, "It's for the pain." Felt a jolt of apprehension at the Colonel's irritated expression, feared he had ideas of ripping out his IV so she placed her hand gently over Sheppard's IVed one.

"Colonel, I know I'm new to Atlantis and we've only interacted a few times but I've been a nurse a long while. I can determine when a patient is in pain…" The colonel looked as if he would outright refute that undeniable truth, which had Maggie pressing forward, again being unmindful of keeping her tongue, "_and_ I know when the people who care about my patient are in pain." That had the Colonel's eyes narrowing at her, asking her silently to explain. "They would rather take your pain on themselves than see you in pain."

John shifted in bed, uncomfortable with the direction this admonishment had taken. "Yeah, ok, you gave me the pain killer. I'm good now," he said in a way of dismissing her.

'_Heck if I'm sentenced to night shift anyway…I might as well fully deserve Beckett's wrath and the Colonel's,_' she thought and started to dive ahead with her opinion, "It seems like you're…" but Dr. Beckett's Scottish brogue cut her off.

"I'll see to the Colonel now Nurse Elsen," Carson stridently announced as he stepped into the curtained off area. He gave Maggie a glare of 'we'll schedule your graveyard shifts later today,' as she stepped by him then he faced his most trying patient, no, wait, that award went to Rodney, hands down. 2nd most trying then. But 1st most worrisome. "Should I bother asking you how you're doing, or should I just assume it'd be your normal, 'fine' answer?" Carson's words were disgruntled but his tone was almost disheartened as his hands gently pulled back the covers and began checking John's leg for any troubling indicators of complications from the gunshot wound and subsequent surgery.

"Funny you ask me that _after_ you had your nurse play the bad guy and give me a painkiller without my consent," John groused back. He clenched his teeth the next moment instead of yelping in pain when Carson's, albeit gentle, prodding elicited a sharp jolt of agony up his leg.

But Carson didn't miss his pain, gave a remorseful, "Sorry about that," before covering him up again with the sheet. "You know, only you would consider her a villain for _easing _your pain. Well, you and Ronon. Rodney would think she was a sadist for taking so long to give him the morphine."

"How's my leg?" John asked because it was easier than talking about his teammates. Ex-teammates.

"It will heal up nicely…" Carson assured, before throwing out a scare tactic for good measure, "..if you stay off it."

John simply nodded. Not like he'd have to worry about walking too far or going for a run in the next few weeks. After all, the Daedalus didn't boast a lot of walking/jogging trails in its travel brochure. "How's Sgt. Kressers' Team?"

"Some broken limbs, ribs, touch of hypothermia but all in all, they got extremely lucky," relief in the doctor's tone.

Then John got to the question he wanted answered most of all. "Hear any news about Lorne's team and…Ronon and Teyla?"

"McKay's with them too," Carson informed saw John's jaw clench at the inclusion. Knew the man well enough to know he was upset. That he was worried for McKay and the others and was raging at his inability to be there with them. _'Which is why I bloody ordered my team to NOT tell him about any of this. Maggie I'm going to put you on graveyard shift so long you'll forget there is a day shift,' _Carson vowed. But since the cat was out of the bag… "They were none too pleased to be called away without getting to see you first."

Recalling the feeling of abandonment he felt when he woke up alone, John shifted on the bed and fiddled with the sheets, felt pathetic for feeling _relieved_ at Carter's belief that his teammates hadn't _wanted_ to leave him. That duty took them away not that they had finally got the message he'd been broadcasting loud and clear all month that he didn't need them anymore. A deception that each day rotten away at his soul.

Thinking John doubted his team's reluctance to leave him, Carson expounded, "Rodney even made me swear to tell you we exchanged the Sheppard look."

That had John's curiously looking up to meet Carson's gaze, arching an eyebrow in question.

Carson smiled as he realized the Colonel had taken the bait. "The 'I hate to leave but duty calls so I'm trusting you to take care of him in my absence' look."

John's lips tipped up in amusement. "You told him about_ our_ special look. Is nothing sacred?" he mockingly drawled, cheered up by Rodney's message to him.

Knowing John truly wasn't mad at him, Carson didn't try and defend his actions. After all, everything was fair game in love and war. And sometimes that meant playing at war to keep the ones you love by your side. Atlantis had reinforced that lesson practically on a daily basis. And still they lost people…like they had Elizabeth. They certainly couldn't lose John too, no matter how much he had been pushing them away.

His desperation to make sure that didn't happen gave him the brazenness to confront Sheppard on his findings that morning. "I went to your room this morning to get you some things: a book, your video game…socks…" Carson started knew John knew what was coming when he stiffened. "I didn't expect to find out you'd started to box up your belongings," couldn't help the anger that tainted his words, the indignation that bled through. The 'How bloody dare the man think he could leave them?! How stupid can he be to think we'd want that from him?!' unsaid but pretty darn easy to read in his expression.

John didn't bother denying it. "Not like it's a secret anymore….I put in a transfer request."

Carson crossed his arms over his chest, snippily retorted, "Well, you're going to have to take it back."

"The military doesn't let you do takebacks," John sallied because it was easier than saying he didn't want to take it back, that Atlantis didn't feel like a place he belonged anymore, not without the people who had made it home to him in his life, on his team.

Dropping his crossed arms, Carson stepped closer to the bed, glared down at Sheppard, "Well then they better turn down your request! If you can't be bothered to think clearly, hopefully the IOA board can! I can't imagine where Atlantis would be without you!"

"Ah, being led competently by Colonel Sumner, not fighting all the Wraith Hives at one time, not missing their first operational leader to a suicide run, not down to a handful of its initial crew…," John ticked off his mistakes.

"I never thought I'd have to put up with a pity party from you John?!" Carson snapped, hated that the man could only see the failures and not the million instances of good he had done.

Hurt at Carson's insult, John hid behind a wisecrack, "Well, I thought if no one's going to throw me a going away party, I might as well do it myself."

"No wonder Rodney gets so mad at you! Can't you see that the last thing anyone wants it for you to leave?!" Carson growled, losing his Scottish temper at the man.

"Oh, I think you're not up on the latest poll, Carson," John snarked back, especially since Colonel Carter's ballot counted for 90% of the deciding vote.

"And clearly you didn't canvass the right demographics," a disembodied voice testily critiqued before Rodney parted the curtain and joined the wounded Lt. Colonel and his doctor. He was still in his full tac gear, was even still sporting his gun so it was very clear he had come directly there from his reentrance through the gate.

John couldn't stamp out the relief at the sight of Rodney, and if McKay was up to picking on him, then Teyla and Ronon must be fine, their rescue mission a success. "Your mission…" he still began to ask but Rodney downplayed it with a waving of his hand.

"Lots of incompetency and yes, my brilliance saved the day, well, that and Ronon and Teyla outflanking the Wraith and making them run for their lives," Rodney summarized, gave a nod to Carson as he discreetly let Sheppard to him.

"Glad to hear it all turned out well," John replied to Rodney usual boasting. It was kinda sad that he was even going to miss that. No one could toot his own horn quite like Rodney McKay.

Knowing he wasn't going to ever have a great segue to what he needed to confess to John, he lamely instigated one. "Yes, everyone loves a happy ending which, by the way, is why I took the liberty of deleting your reassignment request before it could get sent to the IOA."

It must have been the good drugs the nurse gave him because John sat there with his mouth open, stunned for more than a few seconds before he finally erupted in righteous indignation. "You had no right, Rodney!"

But Rodney met his indignation with his own. "No! I had every right!"

"Why, because we're teammates?! We're not that anymore McKay!" John brutally pointed out. "What I do isn't up to you, doesn't even directly affect you anymore!"

As much as Rodney could disprove Sheppard's last statement, it was John's first denial that Rodney couldn't let go unchallenged. "How stupid are you!?" he shouted as he towered over the wounded man. "It's my right to stop you from doing something so detrimental to your own wellbeing because you're my **best friend**, not because we were ….are teammates!"

Even as the declaration left his mouth, Rodney stiffened, felt himself pink up in embarrassment. Crossing his arms he glared down at the equally stunned Colonel and grumbled, "Oh great. Since you're so stubbornly emotionally stunted, it falls to me to be the touchy feely one. Do you have any idea how wrong that is?!"

Realizing that McKay didn't make such declarations, like ever, John tried to not inflict pain on the man while he was being vulnerable. "Rodney, I know that…we've become….well…."

"Oh for pete sake, don't hurt yourself," Rodney huffed and flopped down into the chair by John's bed. That made room for a …companionable silence to hang between them. Looking down at a speck of mud on his tac vest, Rodney quietly said, "I know what Sam told you." He chanced a look up, saw John's expression closing down. "She was wrong, John. On all accounts."

Instead of protesting Rodney's opinion, John stiffly demanded, "How do you know what she told me?"

Rodney sighed, liked John's anger more than this standoffishness. "She confessed to me…to Ronon and Teyla too what she said to you, that it was her idea for Ronon to be kicked off our team. She's….I don't think she's sorry enough…but she knows how wrong she's been."

John leaned back in the bed and stared at the ceiling. "She's not wrong, Rodney. I've been playing fast and loose with the rules and everyone's paid the price but me."

"No matter what the crazy voices in your head are saying, you not playing by the rules has saved lives, not lost them," Rodney said in his brand of a pep speech: an insult wrapped into an accolade. Then Rodney risked tacking on, "If that wasn't true, Elizabeth would have booted your butt back to Earth the second we reestablished contact, the Daedalus docked on Atlantis." To Rodney's relief, his mentioning of Elizabeth did some good, not harm as John smirked.

"Yeah, but she wanted to send me packing…a lot," John found he could find joy in reminiscing about the disagreements since he and Elizabeth had always managed to reset their relationship back to one of friendship and mutual trust. Now he was left with memories of that, knowing it had been something precious Elizabeth had given him. Even when he didn't deserve it. Like Rodney being there with him right now.

"More like she wanted to put you in a corner for bad behavior," Rodney teased, knew that as much as John frustrated Elizabeth, there was no one she had valued more.

John simply nodded with a small smile, knew Rodney was right. Suddenly, he couldn't fight a yawn, cursed the pain killer the sneaky nurse had given him for the lassitude that was sweeping over him.

Rodney nearly sighed in resignation as he sensed John was about to fall asleep before he could fully deliver the pep speech/intervention he had mentally and emotionally agonized over ever since he'd known John's reasoning for splitting up their team and cutting himself off from them. But decided that, sometimes with John, it was the short declarations with a lot of heartfelt earnestness that got you the farthest with the man. Leaning forward in his chair to be closer to his wounded best friend, Rodney put his hand on John's shoulder, "I know that…with Elizabeth…gone…that it's…hard…that you might want….to leave, can't see the good you've done…can still do. And maybe if I wasn't so selfish, I'd let you go..to live a safe life…even wish you well. But seeing as I am selfish, I'm can't give you my blessings, because if you go…if it isn't you and me against all the scary crap this galaxy throws at us…there's not much…you know …use..or hope…or…anything good here for me. So…every attempt you try to send the IOA your reassignment request, I'll intercept it so… you might as well resign yourself that you're stuck here… with me. With Ronon and Teyla."

Rodney's words hit John hard, made him have to swallow something suspiciously like tears. The sentiment, the faith in him, the desire for him to stay…he didn't expect any of it. Didn't think Rodney felt that way about …well the friendship they had slapped together day two in Atlantis. He hadn't really thought the friendship would hold, would become this force that kept him from crumbling under the weight of all the guilt and stress and bad news after bad news after bad news that seemed to slam into them from every angle. But through it all, there was McKay, at his side, yes, screaming they were screwed, but not ditching him, not letting him face off with a cannibal wraith, replicators, Ancient traps or mutant bugs on his own.

'_Crap but how can I leave and let Rodney face any of that alone? How will I live with myself if something happened to him when I'm not here?! Happens to Teyla, Carson…or Ronon.'_ John felt as torn as Ronon probably had, not knowing what to do, what instinct to follow: his heart that didn't want to leave these people who were his family, his instinct to protect those people and Atlantis to his last breath, his military assessment that told him to stay would undermine Carter's effectiveness and Atlantis needed someone who could lead them well in Elizabeth's absence, and lastly, his raging doubts that he could protect anyone anymore, that he'd fail them all…just like he had Elizabeth.

Disheartened that John didn't cave to his ultimatum..or at the very least rant about it, instead remained scarily quiet, Rodney gently squeezed John's shoulder. "Get some sleep, Sheppard. We'll get back to how you're not going anywhere when you wake up."

John submissively nodded his head, too many thoughts swirling in his head to take up the debate with Rodney right then. Closing his eyes, he heard Rodney settle in the chair like he was staying awhile. Reopening his eyes, he ordered, "Rodney, go get out of your gear and get some sleep. Since you sabotaged my transmission to the IOA, I'm not going anywhere for the time being. Besides, you stink."

Rodney sniffed his underarms and his face screwed up in disgust. "You're right," he agreed as he decided it best to follow John's command and stood up. But before he headed off for a shower, left John's side, he stubbornly corrected John's statement, "And, Sheppard…you're not going anywhere at all."

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TBC

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Thanks for everyone still out there reading and supporting me with encouraging reviews!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


	15. Words to Heart

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

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Chapter 15: Words to Heart

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Teyla had been distracted all during the mission, dangerously so when Rodney of all people had to shout out that a wraith was behind her. But try as she might, she couldn't push down the fear that they would not be able to convince John to stay on Atlantis. She was still darkly imagining the Ancient base without his presence. How…empty …hopeless it would feel. John was…he brought…he had…how did you describe someone who was so integral to your life, to your outlook on life?! How she would miss watching his face crease with frustration at Rodney's many quirks, his smirk when he was taunting someone. His varied expressions were something she'd come to enjoy, like she had Rodney's boasting, especially when he put someone foolish in their place, or Ronon's growl when someone dared to pose a threat to his teammates and the certainty that he'd take on a whole wraith ship to rescue of them, unarmed if he had to. John, Rodney, Ronon they were her family…more than the other Athosians had managed to be, try as they might but she had…closed off her heart after her parents were gone, the pain of loving someone too great to risk again.

Then John Sheppard came into her life talking of liking Ferris wheels and going fast and looking at her with respect. And daring to do the one thing her people never had: fight back, _steal back_ what the Wraith had taken, not cower in hiding but charge forward with a battle cry to meet their enemies and all those who ruthlessly took lives.

How did you simply replace someone who was a brother to you? It was impossible, as much as trying to replace her parents had been. Could John not see the part he played in her life, in the lives of Rodney, Ronon and so many others? The need Atlantis and the galaxy had of his indomitable nature, his hope among the darkest days?! But maybe that was as he had accused her of: _expecting_ him to have an indomitable nature, to be hope when he himself was feeling so hopeless, lost after losing Elizabeth, hurting at Ronon's intent to leave? She had not meant to burden him with the weight of those expectations…nor had she seen the true pain and despondency he had been in these past weeks, her own pain too blindingly strong to see his.

She had no doubt where Rodney had rushed off to the second they were back through the gate and stepping onto Atlantis, part of her petty enough to wish she had beat him to the exit. But then again, Rodney and John, they had a bond that was severing too. A bond she knew Rodney would use every scheme his genius mind could think of to not lose his best friend, his _brother_. But still, it stung to have to know she had to wait to see John, especially since they had not been able to see him before their departure. But as she turned to leave the platform, she saw someone who she knew was hurting as badly as John. Could see the jump in Ronon's jaw at Rodney's departing figure, the way his hands fisted at his side.

"Ronon," she began but honestly didn't know the words to say and it mattered little as he stalked away without acknowledging her call and skirting around her reaching hand. Ronon would not be comforted, felt he deserved this pain…to bear the guilt he assigned himself for John wanting to leave, for John falsely and heartbreakingly thinking Ronon's own near departure had been what the Satedan had wanted.

So she alone from her team was there to receive Colonel Carter. She coolly gave the commander a nod but didn't give her the respect of her title in greeting because Teyla had also been stewing in anger on the mission. Her earlier attempt of understanding for the woman's position…it frayed away at knowing the cost the woman's actions might exact from her, who it might _take_ from her.

"Teyla, did any of the Wraith get away? Be able to report back that we were scouting out the …"

"Major Loren can give you a full report," Teyla cut across Colonel Carter's inquiry as said Major came through the gate behind her. Against her upbringing to be a formal leader with impeccable manners and patience for both fools and foes, Teyla found she could not be 'civil' to Carter among her boiling anger longer than that. Without another word or permission to be dismissed, Teyla walked away, even knowing that the Colonel could kick her out of Atlantis. And then where would she go? For her own people felt like strangers to her now. But in her heart of hearts, if John left, she wasn't sure Atlantis would be a place she could call home any longer, that she would even want to stay.

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Having cleaned up and tried to find some peace in a workout, Teyla nervously stood in the hallway outside the infirmary. Yes, there had been times when she had trepidations about broaching a subject with John but this…nervousness…fear, it felt like utter weakness on her part. She and John had been through so much together, shared victories and defeats, happiness and sorrow, hope and fear. It connected them…it had seemed inconceivable that connection could ever break. And was it? That fracture that she had been refusing to acknowledge, was that her true cause for upset? Not just John's plans to leave Atlantis?

John was displeased with her, _hurt_ by her. '_And I didn't see it, not even when he accused me of expecting too much of him. I thought this was upon John to fix, that he was refusing to make things right between he and Ronon, between Rodney and I, to put our team back together again. But it was never John's to fix, was Colonel Carter's and now it is ours, Ronon, Rodney and __me__.' _Instantlyshe fiercely wanted to right that wrong. That want gave her the courage to enter the infirmary, seek John out. Though she felt relief he was awake, conscious, looking well settled upon the infirmary bed, his bandaged leg elevated by a pillow, she felt pained by the downcast look he wore before he noticed her presence and cleared his face of all expression.

"John, how are you feeling?" hated that the smile she managed to offer to him didn't seem real even to her.

"You know, down two working legs so a run is off my morning to do list for a bit," John tried for a quirky smile of his own. Warily watched as Teyla claimed the chair a stinky Rodney had wanted to claim an hour ago. He nearly sighed. '_Here we go again with more talking about feelings and I can't even make an escape. Maybe I should start fake yawning because real yawning had gotten Rodney to leave._' But that wasn't fair, he didn't want to deceive Teyla…or hurt her. He just didn't want…_this._ The awkwardness, the emoting, the therapy session, the doubts welling in him that he knew what the right thing to do was.

Clasping her slightly trembling hands, Teyla met John's falsely blithe expression and exhaled, wanted to get this right. "John, I apologize for blaming you for our team's dissolution, that I was angry that you would not….put our family back together again. Though I did not know the cause, I should have trusted you wouldn't …"

"Why?" John cut across Teyla's apology.

Teyla faltered, felt she had hurt John in some way. Quietly asked, "Why…what, John?"

"Why should you have trusted me?" John demanded, knew Teyla was again overestimating him, thinking he was this good man all the time. And he wasn't. That was one of the things he both liked and disliked best about Elizabeth: she saw his faults and called him on it…and forgave him anyways for his failings. "I gave you no good reasons for splitting up our team, I avoided you, all of you, not to mention I was a jerk whenever one of you tried to talk to me. I made it pretty clear the team was done and gave the really good impression that was how I wanted it. So what in all that makes you think you should have trusted my judgement?"

John wasn't making this easy on her…and part of her thought she deserved it. "You are right…at first, I was too…hurt…to consider anything but my own pain. We did not….I did not consider how greatly this hurt you…until we spoke yesterday." Might have smiled as John uncomfortably looked away, shifted in the bed at the idea of him having feelings to hurt but it was too painful a reminder of just how deep those hurts went for John to bring her amusement. "The one of us who did worry about you…what this separation was doing to you from the start…was Ronon." That had John's head snapping up and his eyes warning her to not lie to him. "It is true. He asked Lorne if you were ok when he met with the Major to establish his new team."

It was wrong that the man who he had been pissed at for wanting to leave him was the one who knew him best, had been worried about him when he had seemingly ripped their worlds apart in an immature hissy fit. Strange that it was Ronon who had some inkling of the pain that decision would cause him, Ronon, not Teyla, who usually was so good at reading him. "Far as Ronon knew, I was doing all this out of spite, pissed that he wanted to leave Atlantis."

"Not out of spike, John. We believed…it was out of mistrust..hurt," she haltingly confessed, saw his look darken with self-hatred and ached to grab his hand but didn't, instead leaned forward, drew closer to him. "John those are emotions that you are _allowed_ to feel. Ronon's decision…it was painful for all of us, myself and Rodney as well. And then for Colonel Carter to mislead you to believe Ronon _wanted_ to leave because he sought to be out from under your leadership…" she clenched her jaw, knew fury was edging into her tone at the damage the Colonel had knowingly inflicted on John.

"Was it a mislead?" John quietly asked, eyes boring into hers. "Teyla, isn't it….satisfying for you to be a leader again? I just…never gave you the option here. Anymore than I did Ronon. Or let Rodney back out of being on my gateteam. I pushed everyone to do my will, was an overbearing jerk. At first I could justify it because we were cut off from earth but when the connection was reestablished and Atlantis had staffing…support from Earth…there was no reason I couldn't have…."

"Split us up? Did what you did now and you think you would have received a different, _gratified_ reaction from any of us?!" Teyla challenged, needed John to see there was no time when they would want this annihilation of their team, their family. "We would have never welcomed the destruction of what all three…four of us hold dear. If I truly wanted to lead instead of gladly following your leadership, I would have left with my people or petitioned Elizabeth for my own team. I had my own choices to make and I've made them and being with you, on your team is where I want to be. None of that has changed."

"But after Elizabeth…the replicators…your own people taken…you have to see there had to be better choices I could have made, should have made." Knew what his decisions had cost them all and wanted the tally of failures to stop, the number of dead to not lie upon his conscience anymore. Maybe he should _want_ the out Colonel Carter had backed him into seeking. To go and have only his own life in his hands.

"If there were better choices, they are unknown to Elizabeth, the IOA, myself, Rodney or Ronon." Here she did reach out, clutched John's hand in hers. "You thought I expected too much of you, that I …I thought of you as some hero to save us all, and maybe I have. Have put great strain on you but …it's not been wrong of me to believe in you in the past and it is not wrong for that trust to continue." Seeing his protest, she squeezed the hand in hers, "My faith is not that you will save everyone, that we will win every battle, or even that we four shall all survive. My trust in you has always been the surety that we will not surrender to anyone's evil tyranny, will fight to the last, and that we won't become monsters ourselves, sell our souls for victory at any cost. That is what you taught me, Ronon, Rodney and all of Atlantis. And if you need us to be that rock for you now, to remind you that you can't quit fighting, to be there to help you keep fighting and not surrender when your own strength fails, we can do that. It is our _honor_ to do that for you. But we can not continue this fight without you."

"Teyla…you can…you **have**…" John insisted, trusted in Teyla's strength even if she doubted it, erroneously thought she needed him. She really didn't. They didn't. He had just made them think they did.

But Teyla shook her head, let a tear slip free. "No, we can not. This past month apart has taught us all that we need you. That we want only to do this fight at your side, and with no one else. You are more than our leader, John, you are my brother, as you are Rodney's and Ronon's. And I heard...what you said about your father to Lt. Tudor," she began hesitantly, uncertain if she had the right to broach the subject.

John pulled his hand from hers, his stomach churning at the reminder that his team had overheard the comments he had made to Tudor to try and relate to the kid, to save Atlantis. "Just talk to get through to Tudor, that's all," he deflected, didn't want to talk about his father, ever.

But Teyla knew better, had seen the pain the recollection had caused John, then and now. "He forsook you, didn't recognize the good man that you are, could never realize all you have done ..all that you sacrifice for others, but that's not us, John. We will not renounce you. We know the man you are, the lives you save, the good you have done. The last thing we want, I want, is to lose you in my life, for you to leave Atlantis."

Though John was affected by her declaration, her vow to never treat him like his father had, there was more things required to make things right than him feeling needed. "Teyla, there's more to this than a transfer request…"John began but Teyla gave a teary but determined smile.

"Colonel Carter will decline your transfer request and begin treating you with the respect you deserve or she will have a mutiny on her hands. I believe Ronon alone mutinying would disruption the entire station but add in Rodney's gift for turning off Atlantis' hot water and my ability to gather allies to a worthy cause, she will find our displeasure quite unbearable."

John had to smirk, could envision his three friends' waging their own brand of terror on Atlantis' normal life. But he also knew this was exactly why Colonel Carter came at him swinging, that she didn't trust him to not use his influence, his reputation to undermine her. Like he admittedly had a few times with Elizabeth but Weir had had her own bond with the Atlantis staff…where Carter had none, was new here, the unknown factor. Unbidden, his mind flashed to Colonel Sumner. Sumner had had the connection with the soldiers on Atlantis and John had been the unknown, the wild card, had to lead men who didn't trust him. Crap but John didn't like feeling sympathetic to Carter's feelings.

"John?" Teyla's soft call snapped him out of his reverie.

"Colonel Carter and I have to talk, Teyla. It has to be a decision made between us. I can't be the reason Atlantis's order falls apart, better I leave than let that happen." Even if leaving destroyed him. He had to be the good man Teyla thought him to be, the levelheaded soldier Rodney and Ronon trusted him to be when they put their lives in his hands. And he _owed_ it to Elizabeth to be the leader that she had trusted him to be in her absence, even if that meant doing what she did, accepting that Atlantis was to be forever lost to her…to him.

"But John…" Teyla protested but John softly insisted, "I have to do what's best for Atlantis, Teyla. Just like when your people left Atlantis, you didn't go with them, you stayed here. You did what you felt was best for the fight."

Teyla's breath caught at that comparison, couldn't readily find an argument against it. But she couldn't believe in her heart of hearts that there was any circumstance where John leaving Atlantis would be the best thing for anyone. But maybe she was being selfish, was putting her needs above everything else. Thought then of someone else who John needed to talk to beside Colonel Carter, who had to have his say in John's decision. Thought it cost her to say it, she hoarsely conceded, "I have to respect that but John, you can't leave things unspoken between you and Ronon. I know you don't enjoy talking about how you feel but…is not Ronon's friendship worth a little discomfort?"

John snorted. "You're playing dirty."

Teyla's bittersweet smile was unrepentant. "I am only doing what I think is best for you and for Ronon. He is hurting as much as you are John. I do not doubt he feels the way you do about Colonel Carter, that he needs to know where he stands with you. I know he is desirous of your forgiveness."

"Forgiveness for him wanting a better …different life?" John scoffed, was beginning to see how selfish he had been to want Ronon to stay when he himself might not be.

Teyla did not mince words, spoke from her heart. "For him hurting you with his decision to leave."

Before John could do something manly like deny he had feelings to be hurt, she leaned down and pressed her forehead to John's in the Athosian version of a hug. Holding that intimate connection with John, she quietly implored, "I know you must do what seems right to you but…I do not wish you to go, John. You would fight for anyone else….please fight valiantly for yourself this time, for what you want."

When she pulled back, she didn't bother wiping away the tears that had begun to track down her checks. Tenderly she cupped John's face with her hand and then left him alone to make his decision, to hopefully take her words to heart.

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TBC

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Thanks for tuning in and love to all my so thoughtful reviewers! Sorry this is an angsty fic and not something cheery but I thought maybe someone out there might like an update, a distraction from the world we live in like I always do when I dive into fanfic.

My prayers go out to everyone world wide to be healthy, to seek God for comfort and hope and enjoy those we love and who love us back. (Even if we are all cooped up together and things get a bit strained…or is it just that way with me and my family?! But like this fic implies, love is present even when there is conflict and stress. It doesn't belittle it, it just makes it a bit hard to see, but the love is still there, holding us together, making us family and friends.)

Here are some verses that have given me encouragement:

"I sought the Lord and He heard me, and delivered me from all my fears. This poor man cried, and the Lord heard him, and saved him out of all his troubles. The righteous cried, and the Lord heard them, and delivered them out of all their troubles."

Psalms 34: 4, 6, 17


	16. Not His Father's Son

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

Author's Note: Yup I'm finally back with another chapter. Struggled awhile with this one so I'm hoping it turned out ok.

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Chapter 16: Not His Father's Son

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Though his body was exhausted, Ronon only pushed it further, ran faster, needed to get his mind to shut down for a while, would have willingly sought out pain if he thought it would distract him. Twenty minutes later, chest heaving for breath, he slumped against the wall, drenched in sweat and about as alone as he could get in Atlantis. And still his thoughts persisted.

As a runner from the Wraith, he had been able to disconnect, to think of only his survival. By the time he had met up with Sheppard, he had long given up the expectation of returning home, of seeing Melina again or fighting alongside his fellow soldiers…like Tyre. He had been rational, realistic, focused… hopeless and utterly alone. _'I can't bear to go back to that_.'

Sliding down the wall, he sat on the floor, drew his legs up to his chest and rested his head on his knees. This was his screw up, he _knew_ that. And he should pay the consequences, all of them. Should march into Colonel Carter's office and tell her he'd be the one leaving not Sheppard. But he wasn't even naïve enough to think Carter or Sheppard would take that option and everything would be fine.

Sheppard, for one, would never go for it. He was a martyr on a daily basis and none of them had ever truly been able to dissuade him from taking up that role when he was determined to wear it like one of his smirks. As for Carter, yes, she was admitting her mistakes but …there was an undercurrent to all her explanations, her apologies…of unease, of indecision. Ronon guessed that she didn't know if she truly wanted Sheppard to stay, because all the tension between them, it wasn't just about Ronon's screwed up reunion with his friends. No, Carter had seen her moment and hurt John where she knew he was vulnerable.

'_Yeah,_ _**me**_,' and that was a revelation in and of itself, that John cared that much about him that he'd upended his world when Carter wanted him booted off his team. Did that even though he believed Carter's insinuation that Ronon happily _wanted_ off his team, that his planned departure was one of discontent…along with a fistful of disloyalty.

No, Carter had wanted to manipulate John, to demonstrate her power over him. But John, that wily idiot, had one upped her. No, _five_ upped her. He had gone ahead and burned his world down around himself before she could. And now he was going to take that defiance all the way, was going to _leave_, concede the battle. Leave destruction in his wake that he couldn't even fathom, or simply wouldn't believe. '_Because if John leaves, if I lose him..…and Rodney and Telya lose him…if he's not here on Atlantis, doesn't stay in this fight…._' Ronon knew the kind of emotional wreckage that would follow John's departure, that it would mirror the devastation his home world had suffered under the Wraith's rage.

Then there was the loss of Sheppard's matchless leadership in the fight for Atlantis' continued survival, for the entire galaxy's ability to fend off the wraith's total domination. McKay could come up with calculations and numbers and predictions, but Ronon didn't need scientific charts to gauge what the fall out would be. He had no doubts that, what the wraith had done to his home planet, the galaxy could expect the same annihilation. That the fight, the wars they found against the Wraith and all comers, would end in bitter defeat if Sheppard wasn't there to stubbornly stand in the way of evil machinations of those with power…which might even include the IOA, if Carter was any indication.

Ronon knew he could lay all this out for Sheppard, darkly insinuate that the galaxy would fall without him. He could _guilt_ John into staying, continuing to fight. But how long could that keep the man going, surviving? Because surviving, it wasn't something you could be guilted into doing against the odds they faced on a weekly basis. No, it had to be something you _wanted. John wanted. _To fight to the last of his breath, his blood, his soul to not fall. That strength came from every fiber John possessed, the man had proven that time after time. But unlike Ronon's own stubborn survival as a runner, John's inner strength to live when everyone would count him out, it wasn't about vengeance, fury, hatred. Sure, it was about stubbornness, but it was mostly about loyalty, about not letting anyone down, certainly not any of the people who counted on him, who loved him.

That determination to not abandon anyone, Ronon now understood where that had emerged: when John's own father had abandoned him, left him alone and hurting and feeling ashamed for putting his life on the line to save others, protect others, to defend those unable to defend themselves, to pledge loyalty so deep he'd give his life for that fealty.

All honorable designs, ones a father should be most proud of.

Ronon hated John's father for making John think, for even a _moment_, that his intentions, his actions were anything but noble. Worse still, part of John must believe his father was right, which was why Ronon's intended departure and Carter's insulations dealt such a blow to Sheppard. It had reinforced what John's father had accused, that John wasn't good enough, that he was ruined somewhere down deep, wasn't worthy of loyalty, that he was on the wrong path, was _selfish_. None of the things that John was. Ever.

How did any of this stop John from leaving, absolve any of the hurt he'd done to his friend, to the man who was closer than a brother to him?! Ronon honestly didn't know, wasn't good with the heartfelt speeches, any more than John was. Only knew he had to make his own attempt to get John to stay, as he knew McKay and Teyla already had. But the fact was, they weren't the cause of John's unhappiness and doubt in himself, that was all him. So it fell to him to make things right, to undo the wrong he'd done, to stop John from leaving, wished it was as easy as knocking John out until he saw sense.

But sadly, violence wasn't the solution this time. Instead he had to do what John had done when they first met: use his words to sway the other's resolve. Course John had evoked Teyla to speak on his behalf at first, after all, the man always knew how to stack the odds in his favor. In the end, it was John's open honesty, his desire to do the right thing, to help others, even Ronon who was a stranger who had stunned him, tied him up and threatened to kill him, that had Ronon trusting him when trusting anyone wasn't something he had done in the long years since he'd first started running.

Now Ronon had to follow John's example, speak the truth and convince John that they still needed him, that staying it was the right thing to do, appeal to that soul deep need he had to help others. And if that entailed baring his soul…or a bit of persuasive guilting, Ronon could live with that as long as John didn't go anywhere.

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"I'm not asking to run a lap around Atlantis, Carson. Just let me hobble around the hallway, sit in a chair along the terrace, have some time out of here because, I seriously can't look at these stupid white walls for five more minutes!" John declared in a warning tone that always boded trouble.

"And put pressure on your leg, fall, rip out your stitches and do damage, set back your healing, ah…no. I'm not letting that happen," Carson sternly shot down John's escape plan.

"I will be a good boy," John promised, putting on his most earnest face which Carson snorted right into.

"Now I know my answer's correct in being no."

"I outrank you," John growled, even as he wondered if Carter had revoked that already.

Carson folded his arms across his chest in a I'm-not-budging stance. "Not in here, you don't, Colonel." When Sheppard opened his mouth to protest again, Carson shut him down. "You're staying in the bloody bed until I give you permission to get out of it." Then he gave John a stink eye and left.

John cursed under his breath. Carson didn't understand the ache he had to tool around Atlantis and he didn't want to explain it him, to anyone. Pity parties weren't supposed to be televised for one and all to see. So yeah, he wanted to see Atlantis one more time, wanted to let the memories settle nice and deep and irrevocably into his soul, wanted to run his hands over the control panels that obeyed his touch, to stare out at the ocean and the two moons from his favorite balcony, wanted to hear the whish and feel the cold tingle of the stargate one more time. Because his time was running short, he knew that. Even if Rodney had sabotaged his transmission, Carter would have talked with the IOA, forwarded his reassignment request onto Stargate Command.

He just needed some closure with this city that he had such a connection with, with the memories of the people gone already and those he would be leaving behind. Before the Daedalus arrived or they shipped him through the stargate, he wanted to say goodbye to his home, the only one he had truly had since he was a boy and his mother had still been alive. Because wasn't a home someplace that offered sanctuary to you and the people you loved, someplace you were accepted? Fought with all your strength and every inch of your soul to get back to? _'Well, it used to be my home_,' John corrected morosely, hated that he had ruined that.

Looking up as something rattled toward him, he saw a wheelchair being pushed through the privacy curtain, smiled and thought maybe Carson understood him after all. But to John's surprise, the driver of the wheelchair wasn't Carson, it was Ronon.

Without speaking, Ronon used military hand signals to do a two finger point in the general direction of the infirmary exit before jerking his head to the IV line attached to John. John gave a nod, confirming his agreement to both tactically plans. Suddenly Carson's voice drew closer forcing Ronon to do an evade maneuver. Crouching down against the bed's other side so his tall frame wouldn't be silhouetted through the curtain, Ronon held still, didn't get up until John tapped his shoulder signaling that the coast was clear even as he heard Carson's voice dimming and the doctor's trademark footsteps heading across the infirmary.

In motion again, Ronon carefully slid the IV bag from its post and handed it off to John, who had already flung his covers back, raring to go. John was about to throw his legs over the side of the bed…. ok, _slowly_ maneuver his gunshot leg off the bed and move in glacier slow motion until his legs dangled over the bed. But Ronon didn't give him a chance to even move his legs, was there by the bed quickly but carefully sliding his arms under John's back and knees. John gave a whispered "I got it!" in protest but Ronon wholly ignored him, continued with his plan and gently picked John up in his arms. Two steps had him using that same gentleness to settle John into the wheelchair. Bending down, he raised the one chair leg support and made sure John's wounded leg was comfortably situated.

Putting up a finger of the universal sign to wait one moment, Ronon ducked out from the curtain area to scout out the enemy troops blocking the path to their freedom. It gave John's dread about the upcoming conversation with Ronon to catch up to him. As much as he knew that he and Ronon had to talk before he left, John also realized that it would be harder than talking to Rodney or Teyla had been. And not harder just because he and Ronon were both men of few words, especially when it came to feeling things and deep truths, but because John didn't **want** to talk about his feelings. He wanted to suck it up and do the right thing without saying a word, to anyone. Well, that had been his plan until Rodney snooped into his personal files, saw his transfer request.

Ronon returned a moment later and gave a nod that the coast was clear. Settling behind John's wheelchair, he steered Sheppard through the curtain, past some oblivious medical team members and out of the infirmary. Silence reigned between the two men as Ronon's long stride ate up the corridor. For Ronon's part, he wanted to say his piece without an audience while John, he was fine with delaying the conversation as long as he could.

When Ronon rolled him into a transporter and reached out to select a destination, John noted the other man's knuckles were busted open on his right hand. It made John subconsciously rub his own right hand which sported similar wounds. Made him consider the idea that Ronon was in the same dark place he was, was hurting too. John didn't like that. Wanted better for Ronon, for his team, for them to accept his decision and see the good that could come from it.

Some part of John knew he shouldn't be shocked when the transporter doors opened to the location they did, that Ronon had taken him to his favorite balcony. Maybe the man did know him as well as Teyla had implied. '_Or even better_,' John amended, starting to piece together that Ronon had been worried about him, sensed his hurt..knew where he sought to go when he wanted to be released from the infirmary: to this exact spot.

Naively John had thought he had guarded himself behind his mental and emotional barriers so well that no one could really know him… or hurt him. '_Not here, not with them you haven't_.' Here, everything was, had been, different.

It was almost a sorrowful revelation to accept that Ronon, Teyla, even Rodney, who could be so self-absorbed, knew him better than anyone probably ever had, especially his brother and father, even his ex-wife. '_Guess turning into a bug man, getting the life sucked out of you, and risking your life and losing friends who were more like family does that. Makes you…vulnerable…known.' _

He almost startled when Ronon finally spoke after setting the wheelchair brake, "This good?" John nodded, the chair position was great. He could see the expansion of water, the two suns going down for the day in spectacular blazing colors of reds and pinks. Feeling the breeze in his face, he soulfully drew in the salty air. It was one heck of a view from which to say his goodbyes to Atlantis.

Sensing John needed the quiet more than his words, Ronon rested against the railing, took in the sight that enthralled Sheppard. And it was beautiful, John had taught him to appreciate sights like these when he first came to Atlantis, after years of only seeing the end of one day and the start of another as markings in his game of survival. Now it was his time to return the favor, to remind John of what was important, what should be noted and what it was like to hope again.

Turning around, Ronon leaned against the railing and looked down at John, who had his face tipped up and eyes closed taking in the two suns' last rays of the day. "I never considered myself a coward." It was startling enough of an opener that John's eyes snapped open to seek his. Ronon dropped his eyes to his hands, rubbed his busted open knuckles before meeting John's surprised gaze again. "Always swore I'd die before I ever crossed that line."

John couldn't let Ronon's implied insult to himself stand. "Ronon you're the last person in the world…two galaxies who's a coward."

Ronon shook his head sorrowfully, "No. I'm not." He shuffled uncomfortable before sinking down to sit on the ground, his back pressed against the railing, his eyes still fixed on John. "I lied to you…before. I …I did want to leave." Hated that all color leaked out of John's face at his confession, but he let it stand a moment, needed John to except that fact before he could make him see why that was.

John felt his world slip out from under him, _more_ of his world. He had thought…had hoped in his heart that Carter had been wrong, that Ronon's insistence was true, that Ronon hadn't wanted to leave. Suddenly John wanted the Daedalus there now, wanted to be gone gone gone. Didn't want to hear more, to know how he had manipulated …stifled, belittled Ronon until the soldier _wanted_ to leave Atlantis. "Well…ok," he managed, hands on the wheelchair wheels ready to turn tail and leave but Ronon's hand settled on top of his, stopping his escape.

Giving John's hand a squeeze, Ronon waited to speak again until John was generous enough to look at him, though he probably hated him for his confession. "I saw my chance to…to run away and I was taking it…like the coward I am."

"Run away?" John repeated in bewilderment.

Ronon slid his hand from John's and nodded his head. "It wasn't all about protecting Tyre, Ara and Rakai…it was about protecting myself."

John had to concede the soundness of Ronon's rational. "Can't say joining up with me…Atlantis, being on Atlantis, could ever be considered the safe bet. You definitely have reason to regret the day you took me up on my offer to stay here," he guiltily tried to joke but all he could think about was the past years if Ronon hadn't been there. Ronon had been…his rock, his savoir, his _brother_ through so much of the hard times, the bad times He didn't think he'd be here now if not for him. No. He wouldn't be here now without him. He knew that. Appreciated it, even if Ronon only felt regret for the years wasted with him, on Atlantis.

Frustrated that John could take his words and twist them into something hurtful and wrong, Ronon growled, "I didn't regret choosing to stay here, being on your team. And I would die for you…for what we fight for. I thought you knew that, at least."

'_I thought so too,_' John silently replied but didn't say it aloud, couldn't.

John's silence was answer enough and Ronon gave a low growl in his throat and looked away, felt tears prickling his eyes. How could the man not know how deep his fealty to him ran?! So deep that it scared him, had him running away rather than …than… "I figured it would be just a matter of time," his voice rough with suppressed emotions as he looked everywhere but at John. "After we…when Dr. Weir…."

John could fill in the blanks Ronon couldn't. "Just a matter of time before I got the rest of the team killed," self-hatred dripping in every word.

Ronon's head snapped to John's. "You didn't get her killed! She made her own choice…"

"Because she had damn nananites in her…because I flew Atlantis before the shielding closed…because of my misjudgment…." John choked up, hated that his actions and inactions had lost Elizabeth. That he couldn't be trusted to not lose the rest of team, all of Atlantis.

And as much as Ronon knew John hated to leave Elizabeth behind, he didn't know the man carried this guilt upon his soul erroneously. "John, you did what you had to do to save everyone in Atlantis! There was no way you could have known …that anyone could have predicted the strike that would be made, that Dr. Weir would be there…get hurt."

John shook his head, denying Ronon's absolution. "I'm supposed to be the guy who _does_ know, makes right predictions, who …who _saves_ people…doesn't …doesn't get them …killed," John brokenly said before clamping his jaw shut and trying hard to seal up his emotions, to not feel a thing.

Ronon felt gutted by John's misplaced guilt that he had been drowning in and Ronon hadn't known it. '_He felt guilty about losing Elizabeth and then I go and say I'm leaving…and Carter puts her taint on my decision.' _It made it all the more important that John understand why he had really decided to leave Atlantis.

"You can't protect everyone John! No one can. It's…it's why I wanted to leave. Not because I didn't trust you to protect me... but because.." He inhaled and rested his head back against the railing, faced John's lost expression. "Because I knew ….had to accept that I might lose you…Teyla, Rodney…like we lost Elizabeth. That I couldn't protect **you**…anyone. That all this…" he waved his hand to take in Atlantis, "it could be destroyed like Satada." Ronon bowed his head in shame. "I didn't want to be here for that…to lose …the people I care about most. To let them down."

John never expected Ronon's reasons for wanting to leave to be so familiar to his own right then. Both believing that it was better to cut themselves off instead of getting someone you loved killed, of watching helplessly as they lost their lives. "I get that."

Ronon raised his head and gave John a somber look. "I know you do." Pulling his knees up to his chest he draped his arms over them. "But it was no good, trying to walk away, thinking it would be better, hurt less if something happened to you..to Rodney, Teyla while I wasn't there."

Fisting his hands together, Ronon allowed his memories to resurface, allowed the remembered fear to wash over him. "On the ship with Tyre and the others, when I heard gunfire, knew that _my_ team was in danger…I abandoned my Satadan friends without a single thought about their safety, went to help you…save you." He looked up to John, was encouraged by the man's look of surprise. "Knew then that it wasn't going to be _better_ if I wasn't there to watch you die, was going to be so much worse if I wasn't with you, wasn't fighting with my last breath to save you…or die standing beside all of you. Realized that I shouldn't have ever thought about leaving but it was probably too late. I had made promises to Tyre, Ara and Rakai." His voice turned hoarser as he added the worst of his offences, "And I had destroyed the trust you had in me."

John was rocked by Ronon's confession, would have never suspected the man had regretted his decision to leave even before the choice was taken away from him by his friends' betrayal. Unwilling to let one of Ronon's claims go, he corrected, "You didn't destroy my trust…" he emphatically stated before he smirked and admitted, "Pissed me off, yeah." Dropping his eyes from Ronon, John fiddled with the cuts on his own knuckles and quietly did his own confession, "You _might_ have hurt my feelings…if I _had_ feelings."

Though he felt guilty about that truth, Ronon found himself smirking, knew he could maneuver through this familiar territory with John. "Which you don't."

"Course not," John shot back, pretending he was affronted Ronon that could doubt that for a moment.

Ronon gave an amused relieved snort before falling solemn again, dark eyes holding John's. "If you're thinking about leaving for the same reasons I was…it's a no win situation."

"Might be the difference between lives being saved…or lost," John refuted, knew he had more lives in his hands than Ronon did, that his mistakes came at such a higher price for so many others.

"Yes…but not the way you're thinking of it," Ronon refuted, knew then that it wasn't going to be about him guilting John into staying, it was about removing the guilt John already felt, of getting him to see the past and the future without the bias haze he reviewed both in now. "John, you being here…it's the best thing for everyone."

But John shook his head at Ronon's claim. "_You don't know that_, Ronon. And the proof that you're wrong is stacked pretty high."

Knowing he had to personalize his argument, Ronon dismissed, "Ok, forget about everyone else," before letting his conviction carry in every word that followed. "The best thing for me, for Teyla and Rodney and Carson is for you to _**stay here**_. None of us want you to go. **Doesn't that matter to you**?!" he resentfully growled, was done pretending his own happiness wasn't on the line.

And it did matter, that his friends didn't want him to go…but it wasn't enough, not when him staying could get them all dead. So he defected, cowardly put the blame on Carter for his departure because Ronon was refusing to accept his real reasons. "That's nice and ego boasting and all but Carter has already packed my bags and with my recent screw ups, she's got valid reasons for wanting me gone."

"The IOA has wanted you gone all along but Elizabeth fought for you every time. The Wraith sure as hell want you dead but we all do everything we can to make sure they don't get their wish. And what? After all the defiance and promises to keep fight, you're just going to give up?! And you're not just giving up on Atlantis, on the Stargate program, you're giving up on Rodney, and Teyla and you're giving up on **me**!" Ronon growled before he had to swallow hard, the next words coming out choked. "You're the one person I've come to trust to never turn his back on me, abandon me to fight a battle alone. But if you leave…that's exactly what you're doing." Saw John's flinch at that accusation but Ronon didn't back down, pull his next verbal punch. "And don't hide behind Carter! If you want to stay, you fight to stay! You know I'll have your back, that there's a whole city of people who'll stand with you."

"Ronon I.." John stammered, his emotions pinging around in a thousand directions.

Reaching out, Ronon put his hand on John's shoulder, met his adopted brother's eyes. "This decision…it's yours, John. It's not Colonel Carter's. You can run away…_abandon us_… … like I thought to do to escape some feared future loss or you can stay with us. And we can fight side by side and you can have the chance to ensure that dark future we both fear never happens. You're not your dad, John, you don't give up on people…even when you should for your own survival. That's just not who you are."

Ronon had left him no wiggle room, not unless he was truly a heartless bastard who choose to cowardly turn his back on his friends, no, on his _family_, when they needed him. Or simply just when they wanted him to stay. And he _did _have people who wanted him to stay, they had flat out told him that, vulnerability and pride be danged. It didn't escape John's notice that his three teammates had asked for something his own father never had: for him to stay, to not leave. Instead his father's approach was more the 'if you walk out that door and turn your back on the future I bought for you, don't bother ever coming back.' Taking his father at his word, John hadn't ever gone home again and it hurt, badly, knowing his father didn't miss him.

But his friends on Atlantis, they _would_ miss him, didn't want him to go, weren't shy about telling him that to his face. And he would never accuse them of lying, none the type to play games with him, to manipulate him. Instead each of them had the habit of being brutally honest with him, especially when they thought he had done something reckless or was _about_ to do something dumb and/or something…how did Rodney phrase it? '_Detrimental to his wellbeing_?

Now facing the man who had leveled him with a lethal combination of vulnerability, brotherly affection, a soldier's pragmatism and brow beating logic, John accused, "You're a manipulative jerk, you know that?" Even as he was coming to terms with the decision he was about to make, the only decision he could truly live with, honestly the only decision he _wanted_ to live with. Because without being there on Atlantis, without his new found family surrounding him, without fighting for something or someone, without doing good to counter all the bad his mistakes had done, there wasn't much living he wanted to do.

Taking John's accusation for a sign of capitulation, Ronon smiled widely. "Learned from the best," he boasted with absolutely no repentance.

"Rodney's not that bad…" John drawled, purposefully misinterpreting the insult directed at him.

"Funny," Ronon snorted but couldn't dampen his smile, reveling now that he knew John wasn't going anywhere.

John's lips slowly turned up into a smile to rival Ronon's, relief and satisfaction and ..happiness washing over him. He couldn't leave, not if by staying he just might save them, not to mention he'd be saving the best parts of himself. "Colonel Carter is going to have a cow when I tell her I'm withdrawing my reassignment request and the IOA will think…"

Ronon cut across John's worried ramblings, "Carter knows if you leave, she'd have a full out revolt on her hands and Rodney scuttled your letter to the IOA."

"So you're the guy now with all the answers…" John taunted like he resented it but the truth was, it was nice to have Ronon in his corner doing all the heavy thinking.

"Just the ones that matter," Ronon conceded that point, relieved that he had found the words, the right motivation to keep John with them. Coming to his feet, he announced, "I better get you back to Carson before he sends out a search party." Only then willing to return John to Carson, now that he had the certainty that his friend wasn't going anywhere, that they had all the time John needed to talk more, that he could make John realize how much he was valued and needed. Or maybe Ronon wouldn't have to say anything, would just stand at the man's side in a silent pledge of loyalty like he from the start.

As Ronon wheeled him around and headed again for the tranporter, John tapped Ronon's busted up knuckles, "Do I want to know who you put in the infirmary or was this you tangling with a Wraith?"

"Tangled with a wall, more than one," Ronon abashedly confessed before nodding to John's own bruised hand. "You?"

John's face pinked up in matching embarrassment. "Punching bag."

Ronon grunted out a "hmm" as he got them both into the transporter and selected the location closest to the infirmary. Didn't like the proof of John being self-destructive but he understood the release and the need for that pain. "Guess we're more alike than I thought."

That truth, it was finally sinking in with John. Made him think that what people said might be true: that sometimes you met someone who felt more like family than those that were bound to you by blood. But not wanting to get all touchy feeling again, John groused back to Ronon's claim, "No need to get insulting…"

Knowing John wholeheartedly agreed with his assessment but was done talking about his feelings, or admitting he _had_ feelings, Ronon smirked and ruffled John's hair while John tried, unsuccessfully, to duck out of his reach and whined "Hey, stop that! I finally got it poofy again."

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TBC

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Thanks for everyone who's still reading this story! And for those who take the time to drop me a line of encouragement, who lift me up and don't tear me down and make me want to share the stories running around in my head with them, love ya!

Praying for your safety, for renewed hope and for the light to break through from the shadows.

Chery W.


	17. United Front

Tinderbox

Author: Cheryl W.

Author's Note: Sorry for the long wait but I kept rewriting and rewriting until I finally got this chapter into something that I liked.

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Chapter 17: United Front

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John knew there would be a yelling tirade from Beckett in his future, he just didn't expect that it would start without him. Ronon pulled him up short in the hallway as the raised voices were clearly heard from the infirmary ward.

"Yes, sure, I have room to put a Lt. Colonel in the back of my pocket! Do you _see_ him with me, with Teyla, Carson!?" Rodney sarcastically railed back at his accuser.

Carson however was refusing to back down. "He wasn't able to get out of here without help!"

"Have you met John Sheppard?! He's like the king of escapes and bad ideas…" Rodney volleyed back.

Before there could be bloodshed on his account, John gave Ronon a two fingered wave to roll him into ground zero. As they crossed over the threshold into Carson's domain, three heads swiveled to the twosome. One relieved, one proudly vindicated under a splash of relief and one irate.

"Ha! You owe me an apology," Rodney huffed but Carson didn't even hear him, was too busy chewing out his wayward patient.

"What part of "set back your healing" and "You're staying in the bloody bed until I give you permission to get out of it" was in a language you don't know?!" Carson growled, hand already taking hold of Sheppard's wrist while his fingers sought his pulse points, the gesture surprisingly gentle, didn't resonate with his clear anger.

Realizing that John was a little too ashen to defend himself properly, Rodney butted in, "To be honest, when you get angry your Scottish brogue gets a bit thick and it's no wonder… "

"Rodney, shut up," John advised but with an affectionate tone. He exchanged a look with his friend, his best friend as it turned out, and gave a small smile of gratitude, which Rodney returned, assured that there was no heat to John's words.

Facing Carson's wrath, John didn't bother with excuses, couldn't even find it in himself to put up a macho front, was too worn through for any of it, especially after the month he'd had of cutting himself off from his own feelings and away from the people right there with him now who actually were dumb enough to care about him. Wearily he said, "I told you I needed to get out of here for a while. You didn't listen…Ronon did."

Stunned silence fell upon the group who had never actually heard such a …soul bearing and slightly defeated tone from Sheppard before. Seeing the stunned and worried looks, John couldn't help but shake his head and smirk. Maybe they weren't quite prepared for him unplugged. Putting some of his usual smartassery in his next words, he joked, "Who knew a little honesty could put a muzzle on McKay _and_ Beckett."

That broke the quiet like a sledgehammer, just like John intended it to.

"Hey, I just got reamed out for your jailbreak while tall, dark and looming here isn't getting so much as a glare from Carson!" Rodney heatedly groused, jerking his thumb toward Ronon when he inplicated him.

Carson too was on a rampage. "Why shouldn't I be stunned?! I didn't know you _could_ be honest, especially when you rate your pain levels a measly 4 if you've been shot, a 5, _maybe_, if you have an arrow through your chest."

"Depends on the arrow. I have a little bit of a reaction to arrowheads made with impure metals," John quirked.

Before the two men he was antagonizing could retaliate, Teyla stepped protectively in front of John's wheelchair, effectively getting between Rodney and Carson's target of irritation. "Gentlemen, I believe the important fact is that John has returned to the infirmary and is well." When they both meant to argue, she gave them a stern but intact smile, "I know you both want what is best for John and surely that is to see him back in bed and not under more duress." The two highly respected professional, emotional men had the grace to pink in embarrassment.

Teyla turned around, her wink making John smirk and Ronon nod before the Satadan steered John around McKay and Beckett to his bed. Deftly, Telya took the IV bag from John's lap and hung it on the pole while Ronon put his hands under John's shoulders and knees.

"Careful!" Carson barked but there was no need for concern as Ronon lifted John in his arms slowly and held him with gentle strength, John's head rested on his broad shoulder, until Teyla moved the wheelchair out of the way and pulled down the bedsheets. Then mindful of John's legs, Ronon carefully eased John back onto the bed. Instantly Carson was there to brace John's gun shot leg until Teyla eased the pillow under it. Even with the gentleness of his caretakers, John was pasty white and taking measured breaths to negate the pain he was in.

Crossing to the bedside table, Carson loaded a syringe and plunged it's contains into John's IV, causing the man's pain creased features to settle into a one of mere discomfort within seconds. While Carson pulled back the bandages to John's leg to check for any pulled stitches, Teyla crossed to stand by John's head. Leaning over him, she ran her hand through his sweaty, unruly locks of hair that were falling upon his forehead. "Though you took my advice, I'm not pleased you exhausted yourself doing it," but she was smiling down at him, glad he had spoken to Ronon, could sense a peace in John's eyes and joy shining through Ronon's worried gaze. Clearly her two brothers had extinguished the strife between them.

"Me exhausted? Na. Little flagged, maybe," John downplayed, was back to his normal operating procedures but Teyla's smile turned dimmer at his deflection. Surprisingly she didn't pull away, disgusted he was again putting up walls between him and his vulnerability, instead she gently rested her forehead upon his.

"No matter what state you are truly in, we are here with you, John," she vowed before lifting her head, giving him a warm smile and stepping back to give him some space. Which Rodney promptly stepped into.

"I didn't mean…well, I did mean to do it but…if you're…" Rodney began to stammer, shifting on his feet, clearly highly uncomfortable with whatever he was feeling. "If you're feeling….._trapped_.." his voice cracked on the word and he swallowed shudderingly but knew his selfishness was hurting John and that wasn't something he wanted to happen. Meeting John's confused eyes, he straightened up his stance and plowed through, though it would greatly hurt him, this moment of selflessness. "If you want to…if it's really what you think is best _for you_….I…I'll send your reassignment letter to the IOA." Having said the part that was like sucking down a bottle of lemon juice and waiting for the effects to kill him, he couldn't help letting his personal feelings gush out. "Though it'll kill me, emotionally, and yes, probably physically the first time I go off world or something nasty comes knocking on Atlantis' door but that's….not your burden…you just made it your burden and that's the problem…it's been a burden, I've been a burden and I never meant…"

In a surprising move, John reached out and grabbed Rodney's forearm and gave it a gentle affectionate squeeze, causing Rodney to cut himself off in shock at the emotional gesture. "You're not a burden, Rodney. You've saved my life how many times now?"

Glad to be on familiar boasting ground, Rodney parried back as John's hand fell from his forearm, "More than even I can manage to keep track of."

John smiled, knew he could count on Rodney's pride to beat things back to normal between them. "Exactly. And who else gets all my bad jokes and movie references."

"Which I'm ashamed of myself for 99% of the time." But then Rodney's head tilted, suspicion and dread darkened his features. "Is this your goodbye, so long, speech because you did get your transfer request through already?"

John's eyes skittered to Ronon's, and his friend couldn't hold back his joyous smile, prodding John to enlightening the rest of their family of his decision. Even Carson had frozen in his actions, his eyes coming to settle on John's features.

But now that the time was at hand, John felt all bashful and nervous. "Ah…yeah, about that…." Looking at the gathered circle of people he cared about most in the world, he saw all of them, even Ronon, were hanging on his every word, waiting…hoping. And that gave him the strength to take another step back from the abyss he had allowed himself to be backed onto.

"I don't…I'm not….I'd like…." Crap but this was hard, and it wasn't prideful objection to doing a takeback, admitting that he was wrong. It was the vulnerability of admitting he wanted to stay, allowing them to know he needed them, letting himself feel whatever he wanted to feel and not gauge the consequences…or brace for the inevitably soul crushing ending that was the fate of all the rest of his relationships.

Into this maelstrom of emotions, it was Ronon who gave his hand a brief squeeze and, eyes holding his with steadfast affectionate regard, vowed, "It will be alright, John."

Taking strength in Ronon's conviction, John gave a watery nod, exhaled and announced, "I'm withdrawing my transfer request. I want to stay on Atlantis."

There was an array of verbal responses straightaway to his declaration.

"John, that is wonderful news!"

"Really, for sure?! You're not just saying that and then going to slip onto the Daedalus and not say goodbye because you hate having to talk about your feelings?!"

"Colonel, I'm very pleased to hear that."

Affected more than he wanted to admit at his friends' reactions, John smiled widely, turned that smile upon the only non-believer in the group. "Really, Rodney. You're stuck with me, right back at you."

"Oh thank God!" Rodney praised because there really wasn't a way he foresaw his life being anything but miserable and short-lived without John in it. He surprised John and himself by giving the colonel an emotionally fueled hug before pulling back and beginning to ramble on at Mach One. "That's actually good because I couldn't have sent your resignation letter even if you wanted me to because I deleted it even from the hard drive and dug it out of the backup programs in Atlantis's main computer storage areas. Next we'll have to throw your meager possessions back around your room into their prior array of 'a bomb just exploded here' glory. And then we'll need to talk about recovery time because I'm not going on a gateteam you're not part of…."

"There's one person John needs to speak to first," Ronon interjected, hated to have to be the one to bring painful rational to the pleasure and relief engulfing them all. But he was a realist at heart…wasn't the optimist John was. Felt panic surge through him at the thought that all this relief and joy could be futile if Colonel Carter went against logic, clung to her jealous prejudice, couldn't admit she needed Sheppard, that Atlantis needed Sheppard.

Brought back to the reality that his fate wasn't in his hands, hadn't been since the day he put his signature on an Air Force recruitment form, John sobered quickly and gave a nod of morose thanks to Ronon for putting things back into prospective. But Ronon looked more like he had stuck a knife in his gut than thanked him. "Ronon's right. Colonel Carter's the one who decides if I get to stay on Atlantis."

Again voices were raised in a clash of opinions.

Telya tried hard to be logical, though her own soured opinion of the Colonel peeked through her rigid tone. "She must recognize all that you bring to Atlantis, that she can't hope to oversee Atlantis without you, John."

"You go, I go. And I've told her that already," Rodney arrogantly declared before the insults started up. "She would have to be a moron, which I never thought of her being..but then again I never suspected her of being so callous and cold hearted to try and hurt you to amplify her ego. She's not who I thought she was."

"Surely the Colonel would be relieved you're rescinding your transfer request," Carson merrily vowed, earning him 'you've got to be kidding me' looks from his gathered friends. "I feel like there's something I'm missing in all of this."

Not wanting to fall into the easy trap of bad mouthing Carter who he actually needed to show him kindness, John spoke before the others could correct the good doctor's opinion on the merits, or lack there of, of Colonel Carter's benevolence. "The colonel's the leader of Atlantis and we need to respect her position." Seeing the objections on his teammate's faces, he continued, "My fate isn't the only ones in her hands, all of yours are too. Not just your careers but your lives and the lives of everyone on Atlantis. If she feels, like she actually has every right to, that I'm going to be a hindrance instead of a help in her leadership, she will hand me over to the IOA and none of us will have a say in that." Protests began from all corners but he shot them all down. "I'm not going to stay if I can't do any good, save lives."

And that was something all of them knew about John, that above all, he wanted to save lives, that it would be worse if he stayed for them and Carter didn't listen to his advice and lives were lost because of their dissention, they each had seen that scenario a time or two with Elizabeth. Rodney had seen it with Elizabeth herself when he had gone against John's ruling, gave her the nanites and that rebellion hadn't spared Elizabeth in the end, had maybe doomed her to a worse fate than death.

"This is not a decision only between you and Colonel Carter. We all have much at stake," Teyla began but it was Ronon who finished her resolution.

"You're not meeting her alone," Ronon's tone resolute, eyes daring Sheppard to even _think_ about protesting and see where it got him.

"Yeah, one on one she manipulates you into believing the stupidest things and making the worst decisions." Rodney didn't want Carter anywhere near Sheppard while he was projecting such vulnerability but if the Colonel and Lt. Colonel had to co-habitat a space for a required talk where Carter groveled for Sheppard's forgiveness, no way was he letting his friend go it alone.

"Thanks for your trust in me," John sarcastically drawled at Rodney's allegations, though they were pretty spot on. But his gut was starting to settle down at the idea that his confrontation with Carter wasn't going to be mano e mano, because Rodney was right, he hadn't won a single round with the woman playing fair, trusting her judgment, believing she knew something about him and his team that he didn't, couldn't face. When the truth was, if she knew a thing about his team, about his family, she'd know they were down and out a lot of times, were crap out of luck when it came to things going the easy way, but they never gave up on each other. He had certainly never given up on any of them, (not even Elizabeth, he still held back some dim but stubborn hope that they'd see her again). And his family wasn't giving up on him, hadn't in the past and they weren't going to start now. No matter the Grade A idiot that he had been the past month.

"So we're doing this together, deal?" Ronon posed, hoped John wasn't going to make them argue about this until the wounded man was even more drained of energy because the outcome wasn't going to change. They were in this together. Done deal.

John met the resolute faces around him, knew that the choice wasn't his own. That what Teyla said was correct, what each of his teammates had told him wasn't an exaggeration or a manipulation. They were all tied together, were a family. And he, of all people knew, what it was like when a family was shattered, that the resulting shards only knew how to cause pain, left behind wounds that would never heal. He honestly never wanted that to happen to this family, his true chosen family. Realized dolefully that it just might take all of them to keep what they had, what they valued most, from slipping through their fingers.

So to Ronon's question, John gave a firm unflinching affirmation. "Deal. We do it together."

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TBC

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Thanks to all my beloved reviewers and all my readers for still popping into this story to read this chapter!

Have a great day!

Cheryl W.


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